


Vessel

by MoodyAquarius



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Dean/Castiel from the beginning, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/pseuds/MoodyAquarius
Summary: "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."Slow burn, inspired by Vessel by Twenty One Pilots.





	1. Ode to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I'll stay awake,  
> 'Cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight.
> 
> Why am I not scared in the morning,  
> I don't hear those voices calling,  
> I must have kicked them out, I must have kicked them out,  
> I swear I heard demons yelling,  
> Those crazy words they were spelling,  
> They told me I was gone, they told me I was gone.
> 
> But I'll tell them,  
> Why won't you let me go?  
> Do I threaten all your plans?  
> I'm insignificant.  
> Please tell them you have no plans for me.  
> I will set my soul on fire, what have I become?  
> I'm sorry.

September 18, 2008.

Darkness, utter and complete darkness. He blinked, then blinked again and still no trace of light touched his irises. In his mind’s eye he imagined moving his hand toward his pocket, reaching for a lighter he kept there. Slowly, painfully slow he felt blood begin to circulate through his limbs, reminding him he was in fact in his own body and he could reach for that lighter.

He willed his fingers to move, feeling them twitch in response. ‘Grab the lighter’ he repeated to himself as a mantra, feeling his fingers come to life slowly along with the rest of his body. After what felt like an eternity, he found a lighter tucked into his jean pocket, hugged to his hip. He flicked it to life and gasped at what he saw.

Wood.

Nothing but the long thin lines of timber, blackish brown surrounding him in what he was coming to realize was a coffin. His coffin. Violent flashes of the hellhound attack struck him as he fell deeper into his body, knowing in every cell of himself there was no way he’d survived that attack.

He reached down at his torso, which was torn to shreds, he remembered watching his insides falling out, the agony and terror of that moment was buried deep in his bones. Yet, looking down at himself, running his hands along his middle, there was not a single scratch.

His mind caught up to him and forced his lungs to wheeze out a desperate set of pleas, “Help! Help! Help!” He choked on his own throat, sputtering at the crushing dryness that was his own mouth. His pleas were barely above a whisper, he realized he was going to have to get himself out of this one.

As his mind raced for a solution, something burned on his upper arm, sending him shooting upward into the wood above him. As he recovered from the sudden jolt, he had an “a-ha” moment as he realized of course he’d have to punch through the wood and climb upward.

He lined up his knuckles with the point he’d just rammed his upper body into, trying to find the weakest part of the board. As he worked at the wood, sending swift blows up into it he suddenly became increasingly aware of the lack of oxygen around him.

 _“Come on, Dean,”_ a soft, musical voice encouraged from the back of his mind, sounding just like someone standing behind him, looking over his shoulder. His mind connected with his body and he responded, sending a swift punch upward and hearing a rewarding crack, followed by speckles of dirt falling onto his face.

He continued punching, fists breaking through the wood and finding nothing but dark soil, he sucked in what air he could and climbed upward. Getting his upper body out of the coffin was the hardest part, his legs propelled him up and out through the semi-hardened soil. As his hand found nothingness above it and was greeted by air his body kicked into overdrive and pushed him the rest of the way out.

He yanked himself up through the layers of soil and met the air with a desperate gasp, feeling the last piece of himself falling into place, gasping rapidly at fresh air, hands clawing into the dirt surrounding him. He pulled the rest of his body up out of the soil, crawling, his legs needing a moment to fully wake back to life.

  
His chest heaved up and down rapidly, his body trying to save him from the near-suffocation he’d just experienced crawling up. The light surrounding him was too much, blinding and harshly bright. When his eyes were able to adjust, he did a double take, seeing a circle of dead trees surrounding his grave.

The trees looked recently deceased, like some sort of meteor had struck right on his grave and the outward shock forced all the trees up out of the ground. That or an atomic bomb, either way something huge had struck the area. He turned to his crude grave, which was completely intact, two pieces of wood nailed together to form a cross over the heap of dirt.

He began walking, no direction or plan in particular, just walking. He knew he needed water and some sort of food so he just kept on walking. He’d lost track of how long he’d been trudging down a dirt road until he saw a small, abandoned building on the horizon. He quickened his pace, being able to make out the letters of some gas station, he approached, seeing a locked door.

No matter. He took off his outer shirt, rolling it around his hand and punching through the glass, bursting in and grabbing water, gulping needfully. As he pulls his lips from the water bottle, his eyes fall on the date printed across a newspaper, Thursday September 18.

“September.”

That means he’s been dead for four full months. The next thought that crossed his mind was Sammy. Then Bobby. Where where they? What had they been doing since he died? He rubbed his fingers together, watching dirt crumble from them. He headed toward the bathroom, blasting the water, lifting some to his face, trying to clean himself up a little.

He met his own reflection in the mirror. Same face. Same eyes, same lips, same nose. He lifted his black t-shirt with a frown, expecting to find at least scars from his hellhound attack. Nothing. It was like it had never happened, and that was eerie. He knew someone or something bad was involved.

The only creatures he’d ever come into contact with that could potentially possess enough power to bring him back from the dead were demons and he was not too fond of them. Why they would bring him back he could hardly imagine. It had to be part of some bigger plan, but then again Dean couldn’t justify why he would fit into anyone’s plans.

As he turned to leave the mirror he caught a glimpse of something on his upper bicep. It looked like a burn marking, he didn’t remember being burned, but then again he couldn’t piece together much of anything. He lifted his sleeve, eyes widening as he saw the burn extend into a full-on handprint. It looked like a man’s handprint and was about the size of Dean’s own hand.

He stared at it in disbelief, blinking continually, willing it to go away. It had to be a mark of the demon who’d pulled him out of hell. But why would a demon do that? None of this was adding up and it was beginning to give Dean a headache. He turned away, grabbing some essentials like jerky and porn.

As he wandered behind the counter of the little gas station, a small radio sitting on the counter flicked to life, sputtering nothing but static. He reaches to turn it off, turning back to the register, finding the cash out button, smiling in satisfaction when bills rested before him.

While he was stuffing money in his pockets, a TV flickered to life, spewing static. His eyebrows drew together, feeling his gut tell him it was suspicious he lunged for some salt, immediately barricading the doors and windows. The static surrounding him began to grow in intensity, becoming a screeching white noise.

_“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Do you hear me, Dean Winchester?”_

He continued, but as he did the ringing in his ears intensified, he let go of the salt with one hand, moving it to cover his ear, but as it became louder and louder he dropped the box of salt, grabbing both sides of his head and wailing in agony at the high-pitched scream.

_“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord. There is no need to be afraid, Dean Winchester."_

As it intensified he fell to his knees, clutching the sides of his head and shaking.

_“I will protect you. You are now under my care, Dean Winchester.”_

Finally, the agonizing screeching stopped and Dean was able to regain his autonomy, climbing back up and collecting himself before nearly sprinting out of that place.

\---Days later, in a warehouse---

“That’s a hell of an art project you got going there.” He smirked, looking up from his table of torture weapons to glance at Bobby’s white paint symbols and lines.

“Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe. How you doin?” He gestured to Dean’s table.

“Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. I mean, we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of.”

“This is still a bad idea.” With the weight of Pamela going blind from even trying to contact this thing called Castiel resting on both their shoulders, they each knew how right Bobby was.

“Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times. Whattaya say we ring the dinner bell?”

Bobby sighs and nods reluctantly, taking a small pinch of powder from one bowl, sprinkling it into a larger one and beginning a chant in Latin. He continued, Dean watching with anticipation, waiting for that bastard to show himself so he could plunge his silver blade into him. He didn’t care what he was or how powerful he was, he was gonna show that thing who’s boss.

He was gonna get revenge for Pamela’s eyes, the guilt of that entire situation seeping into his soul. He felt the mark on his arm pulsate. This bastard was gonna pay for what he did, no matter what he was, Dean had seen a million monsters and fought them all.

Lost in his thoughts, Dean hadn’t noticed Bobby was done with the ritual. They both looked around the warehouse and between themselves, waiting for something to jump up and get ‘em but nothing happened. Bobby was the first to move, walking toward the cooler Dean had placed under the table, pulling out a beer for each of them.

Dean reached out, taking the beer with a grin, truly grateful to be having a beer with Bobby right now. It was the little things like this in life that Dean realized he took for granted. Like all those times he’d spent on the road with Sam or his dad, how much of that time he jeopardized, thinking the two of them would always be near. He clamped an arm around Bobby’s shoulders, pulling him closer into a half-embrace, looking at him then taking a pull of his beer.

Bobby chuckled with that sort of ancient knowledge that seeped out through the cracks in his face and smiles. Dean finished his gulp of beer, “What?”

The older man shrugged and simply said, “It’s just nice to be here with ya, I thought I might never see you again and…” He trailed off, eyes getting misty and emotional. Dean naturally shied away, occupying his mouth with beer again, casting his gaze toward the ground.

He cleared his throat, gruffly, manly, “I missed you too, Bobby.”

Bobby studied him for a moment, before reaching out to pull him into a bear hug, grabbing fiercely at the back of his hair and hugging him tight, “Don’t ever make me bury you again, boy.” Dean folded, returning the hug with as much ferocity, burying his face into Bobby’s shoulder and shuddering a weak sigh.

Soon after, they mutually broke the hug, each shaking off the weight of the moment with a light laugh. They sat on the table, waiting, watching.

“You sure you did the ritual right?” Bobby shot him a cold glare. “Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?”

At that moment a sharp wind rolled through the shutters of the warehouse, shaking the entire foundation with a light, crackling roar. Dean and Bobby jumped to position, each holding their shotguns at attention, taking to the far end of the warehouse, opposite of where the sound boomed from.

Dean sassily quipped, “Wishful thinking, but maybe it’s just the wind?”

On the opposite side the large double door burst open, letting in a burst of energy and darkness, a clear outline of what looked like a man in a trenchcoat approached them slowly. Dean immediately began firing, Bobby soon followed, firing off as fast as they could. The shots did nothing as the figure came closer and closer, light bulbs popping above his head as he neared them.

As he got closer they were able to make out more of what he looked like. He was a slender, lean man probably 5’10 or ‘11 with a handsomely chiseled face, a dimpled chin poking out leading to a stubbled face with high cheekbones and a slender nose cradling scorching blue eyes, surrounded by dark lashes and messy raven-feather like hair. He appeared human, but he clearly wasn’t. Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“Who are you?” His fingers tightened around the blade.

He stepped closer into what was almost breaching Dean’s personal space, tilting his head and announcing, with what sounded almost like pride, “I’m the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean took a moment to absorb that, turning around himself, coiling his arm to attack, “Yeah, thanks for that.” With a fluid movement he plunged the knife into Castiel’s chest, expecting a “boom”, a scream, a shudder, something. But he got nothing, absolutely nothing but the slightly pained blue-eyed gaze of the thing standing before him.

He reached at his own chest, pulling the knife from it’s place and letting it fall to the floor. As the metal connected with the floor, Bobby moved to strike, attempting one last blow on this thing, but he read his mind, reaching behind himself and stopping the lead pipe before it could connect with him, twisting it around Bobby and touching two fingers to his forehead, sending him to the ground in a crumpled pile.

Dean jolted toward him, horrified, snarling and ready to kill it for killing Bobby. The strange man calmly, coolly stated, “We need to talk, Dean. Alone.”

Dean dropped to his knees, cradling Bobby to him, feeling tears bud up in his eyes. He moved his fingers to his wrist to check his pulse. Castiel circled them and walked quietly to the table, picking at the pages of a book, nonchalantly commenting, “Your friend’s alive.”

Relief washed over Dean, but he wouldn’t let the enemy see that. He spat, asking again. “Who are you?”

“Castiel.” The man repeated in his calm, low voice, stating it with a sort of royalty.

Dean scoffed, “Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?”

“I’m an Angel of the Lord.” He said it with absolute certainty, so much that it upset Dean’s whole worldview. In all his days he’d never encountered angels and he didn’t believe in a world where they, along with a cruel God, could exist. He didn’t want to believe in that kind of world.

“Get the hell out of here.” He felt the anger bubble up inside him. How could there be a God that would let an innocent woman like Mary Winchester die and allow demons and monsters to slither around? “There’s no such thing.”

The “angel” stepped into Dean’s space again, studying his face carefully. “This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.” He stepped back slightly, as lightning cracked across the large warehouse wall. Dean looked up as giant shadows of black wings curled out from behind Castiel.

He blinked incredulously, guessing he had seen stranger things and he supposed angels could exist. “Some angel you are. You burned that poor woman’s eyes out.”

Castiel sighed regretfully, looking somewhere close to sympathetic. “I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be… overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice.” He made a face at Dean, looking coy, “But you already knew that.”

Dean remembered the piercing white noise that made him curl into a ball, he put two and two together, meeting Castiel’s waiting, wise eyes. “You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you talking?”

Castiel nods gently, eyes almost gazing up at Dean’s face.

“Buddy, next time, lower the volume.”

  
“That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage.” He looked Dean up and down a little expectantly, looking slightly disappointed, “I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.”

Dean’s eyebrows drew together, using the angel’s vocabulary mockingly, “And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?”

“This?” Castiel referred down to his own chest like it was a foreign object. “This is…. a vessel.”

Dean looked disgusted, “You’re possessing some poor bastard?”

“He’s a devout man, he actually prayed for this.”

“Well, I’m not buying what you’re selling, so who are you really?”

Castiel looked tired of this game, sighing and frowning, “I _told_ you.”

“Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?”

Castiel cocked his head again in that bird-like way, thin eyebrows knitting together with concern, assuring Dean, “Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Not in my experience.”

Castiel stepped closer, clearly invading Dean’s personal space, making his heart skip a beat at the proximity to this stranger. Blue eyes assessed him, walking up and down him repeatedly like a computer scanning for problems, he cooed, voice strangely caring, “What’s the matter?” Somehow he got even closer, making Dean’s breath hitch in his throat. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Dean tried not to let him see that he was bothering him, attempting to keep a cavalier expression on his face, but his voice snarled, “Why’d you do it?”

Castiel set himself in his position, rooting his feet to the floor like a tree, fingers clenching and unclenching, like he was getting used to having a body or “vessel” as he called it. His voice was stern, yet strangely proud, “Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.”

Dean slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning from one side to the other, unable to find any position that brought the slightest bit of relief. He opened his eyes, looking around the darkness of Bobby’s living room, clutching at his blanket around him, feeling eyes watching him.

Flashes of hell caught up with him late at night, where he couldn’t hide them in the daylight or fight them away with denial or alcohol. He remembered being torn apart by large hooks, ripping at his flesh, agonizing razors slicing underneath his skin, blood boiling and dripping but no death or relief in sight. Just endless, constant torture.

He heard voices crawling around in his heads, demons screeching and clawing at his skull, insisting this was all a lie, that his soul was still back in hell suffering. Waking up was a dream he was going to wake up from and all that would remain is torture and ceaseless pain. Voices screeched, “You’re gone, you’ve always been down here.” His heart started racing, tendons twitching, reliving the traumas of Hell. He shuddered, body twitching, in his mind he started roaring at the demons, demanding, “Why won’t you let me go?”

They scurried through the cracks in his mind, making his brain ache and pulsate in pain. His whole body was locked in a severe, rigid ball of tense muscle. Sweat dewed at his hairline, knuckles white and face strained in his nightmares.

Through layers of consciousness, he felt a soft touch to his forehead and following that touch was total relief. His breathing slowed to a regular sleeping pace, his heart stopped pounding, fists releasing their grasp on the sheets around him. He slipped through layers of darkness behind his own eyelids, falling back into his mind where it was quiet and he could rest. As he drifted out of consciousness he thought he felt a second touch to his cheek, which trailed down across his lips and chin. He was too tired to open his eyes, way too comfortable to care, letting the heaviness of sleep wash over him.

Castiel stood silently over Dean’s sleeping form, pulling his hand away entirely, watching him succumb easily to sleep. Castiel had forced his grace into the touch, ensuring Dean would not remember the light caress he left on his face. Castiel reminisced the moment he found Dean, bloodied, torn, broken beyond repair. Yet his Father had entrusted Castiel enough to save The Righteous Man and sew his tattered soul back together.

It was the highest honor Castiel could think of, he fought back feelings of pride as he gazed down at the man he’d recovered from Hell. ‘Father will be proud.’ His gaze lingered, watching the soft lift and fall of the human’s chest as he slept. He remembered pulling Dean into his grace, protecting him from the Hell surrounding for just long enough that he could cut to his core and repair Dean’s soul.

Dean was the first human Castiel had ever made such close contact with, yanking them off chains and reaching into their soul immediately, but Father had his orders. The angel felt blood rise in his vessel as he recalled holding this man close, fixing his broken pieces and weaving strands of his own grace throughout him, repairing the parts that had been too torn to heal.

He remembered being struck in awe of the glowing beauty that was Dean Winchester’s soul. Castiel had seen other angels all his life and he’d seen plenty of souls rising from bodies or entering heaven, but they all paled in comparison to the radiating warmth and strength of Dean’s soul. He couldn’t place it, but there was something unique and incredible about his particular soul. Castiel remembered the way it had melted into his hands when Dean was weak.

He snapped out of his own thoughts, clearing his throat and reminding himself this was a mission like any other and once the objective was complete he would return to Heaven, as always. He turned to leave, casting one last glance behind himself, as if making sure Dean was still there, sleeping soundly. A smile touched his lips for the first time in what was probably a millenia.

Castiel fanned out his wings to leave the room, preparing to jump through space-time and leave The Righteous Man to sleep for now. Something magnetic kept pulling his eyes back to Dean, and every time he laid his eyes upon him he felt a warmth crawl up his spine and spread throughout him, making his vessel jitter and shake.

He brushed it off, reminding himself he was indeed a soldier of God and he had no capacity for human emotions or silly things like that. On that thought, he was gone. Dean stirred gently, reaching out around himself, finding a blanket and yanking it closer.

\-----------------------------------  
_"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in."_

There was ferocity in Castiel’s voice, his whole body poised like a cat ready to attack, shoulders raised to a point, hair even looking ruffled like a bird puffing out its feathers. Dean roared back at him, attempting to assert his dominance,

“Why don’t you just throw me back in, huh? I didn’t ask for any of this!” Dean swung at the beer bottle sitting atop the table, sending it into the wall with a crash.

Castiel watched the glass shatter and fall to the floor, his eyes met Dean’s. They were filled with such resolve, such absolute faith in himself, in his plan. He circled closer to Dean slowly, calmly stating, “You are important in the eyes of the Lord, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Why me? I’m insignificant.” He truly believed the words that fell from his lips, wondering why some tattered, broken, worthless hunter would matter to anybody’s plans. “What the hell is coming?”

Castiel gazed forlornly at Dean, “That… I do not know. All I do know is that we must stop the remaining seals from breaking, we cannot allow Lucifer to walk the earth.”

“Why is that suddenly _my_ problem?”

Cas had the answers but he guessed Dean didn’t have the patience or capacity to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, so he sighed and placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder, “It will not be an easy road ahead, that much is true. I do not envy what you must go through, Dean Winchester.”

Dean shuddered slightly from the use of his full name in each exchange he and Castiel had, “Can you… will you just call me Dean?”

Castiel blinked slowly, oblivious, agreeing softly, “Okay, Dean.”

He let a little huff of air out in relief, “And uh, Castiel is a bit of a mouthful, mind if I call ya Cas?”

 _“Cas”_ Castiel mouthed the shortened version of his name, wondering if this qualified as what humans commonly refer to as a “nickname” because if this were a “nickname” that could mean a sign of friendship or camaraderie from Dean, which meant he was slowly, but surely gaining his trust.

Dean snapped his fingers in front of the angel’s eyes, teasing, “Uh, hello? Earth to Cas?”

Castiel felt himself fill with warmth, the same kind of warmth he got whenever he was around Dean. He nodded gently, amending, “Yes, you may call me Cas.”

“All right then, you weirdo.” He yawned, stretching his arms up over his head, "I gotta get some shut-eye."

"Yes, of course. You need your rest." Castiel bowed backward awkwardly, Dean cocked his head at him, smirking.

"You've never, uh... hung out with humans before have you?"

He swore he saw a blush on the angel's cheeks, "Not this... intimately. I've watched them from afar for many millennia."

Dean cringed slightly, "Exactly how old are you?"

Castiel mused, "How old is your planet again?" He said it with sarcasm, knowing Dean wouldn't have that number off the top of his head. He smirked back in his own strange way, only one corner of his mouth perking up, "I've seen a lot, Dean."

The human nodded, "Here's a tip, don't open with that."

"Open what?"

"Open.." he grumbled, fully grasping the total blank slate that was Castiel. "Open like a comedy routine, don't go with that one... it's a little creepy." He caught up with the math, muttering, "So, you're telling me you're billions and billions of years old?"

"Precisely."

"Neat." With that, Dean headed down Bobby's hallway, shutting the bathroom door behind him tight.


	2. Holding On To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking over my body  
> Back in control, no more "shotty"  
> I bet a lot of me was lost  
> "T"'s uncrossed and "I"'s undotted  
> I fought it a lot and it seems a lot  
> Like flesh is all I got  
> Not any more, flesh out the door, SWAT!
> 
> I must've forgot, you can't trust me  
> I'm open a moment and closed when you show it  
> Before you know it I'm lost at sea  
> And now that I write and think about it  
> And the story unfolds  
> You should take my life  
> You should take my soul
> 
> [Chorus]  
> You are surrounding, all my surroundings  
> Sounding down the mountain range  
> Of my left-side brain  
> You are surrounding, all my surroundings  
> Twisting the kaleidoscope  
> Behind both of my eyes  
> And I'll be holding on to you

 

Chapter 2: Holding On To You

 

Dean woke in a cold sweat, head and heart pounding. Flashes of Hell snaked around the corners of his mind, reminding him each and every night that Hell was not far away. It was getting to the point where he was afraid to fall asleep because he knew the nightmares were waiting for him right on the other side.

He threw the thick blankets of his motel bed aside, wandering toward where he thought the bathroom was. His hand fumbled around blindly on a wall beside him, searching for a light switch. Finally, he found one, flicking it on and seeing himself standing in front of the round mirror nestled between two sinks.

He looked ragged, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, short hair sticking out in all directions from his tossing and turning. He reached at his own torso, still not completely used to being back in his own body. He poked at his middle, feeling nothing but warm skin and muscle, just like he should be feeling. Something about him felt off.

He glanced behind himself, seeing Sam’s sleeping form hadn’t moved. He knew he didn’t want to fall back asleep, that would just invite more bad memories into his brain. He stared at himself a moment longer, running some warm water, getting his hands wet and attempting to smooth down some of his bed-head.

He then reached for his toothbrush, deciding it couldn’t hurt to give his mouth a little scrub-down. After that, he flicked the light off, heading for the table where he’d kicked off his shoes and left his heavy jacket lying on a chair. He shrugged the layered jacket over his shoulders, kneeling down to tie his boots on and reaching into his coat pocket to make sure the Impala keys were still there. They were.

With no direction in mind, Dean quietly walked out of the motel, down a rickety flight of stairs to his beloved sitting patiently in the parking lot waiting for him. The sleek black finish reflected the night perfectly, mirroring millions of speckles that was the country night sky. He stuffed his key in the door, unlocking it and sliding into the driver’s seat, second nature.

As his fingers gripped around the familiar steering wheel he closed his eyes, flashes of Hell returning to him, snapping his eyes back open. He pressed his boot down on the brake, firing the engine to life with a low roar. He allowed the car a moment to adjust, listening to all the parts come to life and begin to work together. 

The night was completely peaceful, with just enough moonlight that it left a faint blue glow on everything. As he pulled the car out of the parking lot he decided to head for the hills, driving off toward a mountain trail. He pushed onward as the pavement became a dirt road, pebbles and dust flying out from under his wheels.

He continued on that trail until he hit a meadow-like area surrounded by high trees. It looked like a good place to stop, so he pulled the Impala into the meadow, rolling over high grass and little lily flowers. He killed the vehicle, putting the keys back in his pocket and stepping out into the slightly chilly night air.

It was the beginning of October, nature was beginning that downward plunge into winter death. Creatures were still out crawling around, flowers still surviving the increasingly cold nights, certain species began thriving. As Dean walked further into the field he could hear little mice and creatures scurrying around his steps. The high grass parted around his path, falling weakly aside.

He found a spot where the grass was taller than him and decided to sit, hiding himself away from the world for a minute. He lied back, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the stars. He remembered those rare nights when he, his dad, and Sam were able to drive out to a lake or deserted meadow like this one and just… relax. No monsters, no demons, no ghouls, just a man and his sons enjoying a night.

“Dad?” A small voice rose from about four feet off the ground.

“Yes, Sammy?”

“I read that… some people believe in a place called Heaven where… when you die you can be whoever you want and do whatever you want.”

“Yes. Some people do believe that, Sam.”

“Do you, Dad? Do you think Mama is happy somewhere?”

Dean’s heart caught fire at the mention of his mother, his natural instinct was to smack Sammy on his big egg-head for mentioning her. Their father was in an unusually calm mood, though, and Dean watched, waiting to see his reaction.

Dean watched his father tense ever so slightly, then recoil, cracking his knuckles with a big ‘pop’ and letting out a long sigh. Dean tried to see his eyes, but they were unreachable.

He watched as his father placed one of his big hand’s on Sammy’s little shoulder, crouching down so he could be eye-to-eye with the six year old.

“I like to believe your mother is happy somewhere, yes, Sammy… but…” the sides of his mouth twitched, pain coating his features. “At the end of the day I just can’t be sure. But if it helps you get through your day easier, then you believe it. You understand me, boy?”

Sam nodded.

“Human memory truly is a fascinating thing.” Dean jumped at the voice suddenly beside him, yelping slightly and poising to fight until seeing it was Castiel sitting cross-legged beside him in the tall grass. 

 _“Jesus,_ Cas!” His heart stuttered, catching up with him and the sudden shocked inhale he had taken.

Castiel’s dark features were bathed in the moonlight drenching the world above and around them. Dean made out the collar of his white shirt first, leading him to gaze in disbelief at Castiel’s unnaturally serene face.

“You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

“I apologize, Dean, I was just curious as to why you’d wandered off in the middle of the night. I thought something might be wrong.” He met Dean’s eyes, which were filled with questions. He continued, attempting to explain himself, “I can’t let anything happen to you, remember?” He made a sassy little nod, referring to Dean’s place in _“God’s plans”_.  

Dean scrubbed his face, thinking for once he had found some peace, but no of course not. He recalled the first words Cas had said, piecing it together slowly, sounding disgusted, “You can… hear my _thoughts_?”

“In a way, yes.” Castiel cocked his head in that bird-like way of his, reading the worry on Dean’s face, “But don’t worry, I wasn’t intentionally spying on your memories.” 

“What do you mean ‘intentionally’?” Dean air-quoted Cas’ words. 

The angel struggled, twisting his fingers together in a lock, “I mean… The reason I came is because I felt a distress signal in your soul, it lit up like a beacon, Dean.” He met the hunter’s eyes, watching the moonlight twinkling around his green irises, as he struggled to understand what was beyond his comprehension. “It called to me.”

“What, my soul?” Dean watched Castiel nod confidently.

“I believe it is because your soul and my grace share a bond.” Dean grimaced.

“Look, just… personal space, okay? You’ve gotta respect my boundaries, dude.” Dean stretched his arms out around himself, “This, this is my bubble, okay? My brain and my thoughts include that.” He put a finger to his temple.

“Sincerest apologies, Dean, but I thought you were in danger.”

“Well I’m not, okay?” He felt his voice raise in frustration, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Castiel cocked his head, gazing at Dean, studying his face in that weird robotic way of his. “I am entrusted to protect you, Dean Winchester. If your soul gives me a distress signal I will always come. Understand?” It wasn’t a question. 

Dean stared at him for a long moment, digesting his stern tone and the seriousness of his voice. “Fine.” He decided it was a battle he wasn’t going to win, mind drifting backward in time, asking, “What kind of distress signal?” 

Castiel squinted his eyes at him, “I could feel you were unhappy, there were several emotions there but… I can’t identify them.” 

Dean looked Cas up and down, they were about level height both sitting in the grass, yet Dean’s torso was longer, making him look down his nose slightly at Cas. Castiel met his gaze, holding it and intensifying it with his sapphire stone-set eyes.

Dean got up to move, walking swiftly away from the angel. Castiel followed close behind. Dean turned, opening his mouth, feeling his lip quirk, pulling back over his teeth, “You really know nothing about humans, do you?” 

Castiel was taken aback by the insult, “Excuse me? I watched your ancestor crawl out of the ocean onto land, I watched as my Father constructed the human circulatory system, I believe I know a thing or two about humanity.”

Dean looked satisfied with himself, “I get that. You got all the book-smarts… just none of the street education.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yank the stick outta your ass, feathers.”

Castiel blinked, opening his mouth to rebuttal, being cut off by Dean before he could do so.

“You may think you know everything about something, but you don’t know shit till you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, touched it with your own hands, lived it, experienced it.” He circled him intensely, like a tiger eyeing its meal. “You know nothing about me, who I am, what I’ve been through. Just because you say you’ve seen my soul doesn’t mean you _really_ know me.”

Castiel felt cold inside, standing small, collapsing in on himself. Maybe he really didn’t know anything about Dean like he thought he did.

Dean saw he had struck a cord, Castiel looked defeated. He felt bad. He reached out to poke at something nonexistent on Castiel’s coat, muttering, “There’s something there on your tie.” Castiel looked down as Dean knew he would, as he did Dean flicked him in the nose with his finger, bursting into a fit of laughter.

Cas stood, looking more confused than ever, watching Dean laugh and trot around him like a madman. Dean hollered in between gusts of laughter, “Gotcha!”

Castiel stared at him, not a hint of humor touching his face.

 “Oh, c’mon, Cas, that’s the oldest trick in the book!”

 _Trick._ Of course, Dean was teasing him.

Dean landed a joking punch on Castiel’s shoulder, the angel felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. Dean saw the smile creeping up his face, chuckling, “There ya go, see? It’s a joke, s’posed to be funny, make you laugh, smile, y’know?”

Castiel felt the smile spread across his whole face, looking up at Dean with a curious fire flickering behind his eyes. “Maybe I do have more to learn about humans.” 

Dean felt himself grinning a lot, for the first time in what he realized was way too long. Since he’d dug himself out of his own grave he hadn’t really felt _alive_ until this moment, in a field in the middle of nowhere with a near stranger. He drew in a long breath, looking Castiel up and down.

Cas felt Dean’s eyes burning into him, feeling his vessel’s blood begin to flow frantically, his heart beginning to skip to an irregular beat. He suddenly felt light headed, unable to identify the sudden feeling of weightlessness his vessel was experiencing.

As Dean finished his assessment, his eyes fell to Castiel’s feet, crawling back up to his face slowly, engaging his eyes before looking away, grumbling and walking off toward his car. Castiel followed magnetically.

Dean noticed that, stopping dead in his tracks. Without turning around he cleared his throat, voice low, “Cas.”

Castiel’s air caught in his lungs, “Yes, Dean?”

“Why are you following me?”

 “I..” he fumbled to find a reasonable explanation, wanting to say something like ‘I was commanded to’ or ‘it is part of my orders’ like a good soldier should, but he found himself… wanting? Desiring to be near Dean?

No. This was impossible. He was an Angel of the Lord, incapable of feeling. It must be a malfunction in his vessel, perhaps Jimmy’s memories were penetrating his grace. That had to be it. There had to be an explanation. Castiel, lost in his thoughts, suddenly left before Dean could detect he’d moved.

Dean did a double-take, shouting, “Cas?” Yet he was, indeed, alone.

\----------------------

It had been an incredibly rough day. “Rough” didn’t quite encapsulate the full gravity of the situation. Castiel just nearly was able to pull Dean away from being destroyed yet again by Alastair. The plan to torture him had all gone to hell and Castiel arrived in the nick of time before Dean could be pulverized, but his injuries were still pretty severe.

Cas closed his eyes, reaching out into the ether for Dean’s soul. Focusing in, using his grace to dig through the mass of souls surrounding him, he found one: shimmering and golden, warm and welcoming. He gravitated toward that soul and with a thought, he was standing in Dean’s hospital room.

He approached Dean slowly, taking in his injuries, feeling what he could only think of as shame and guilt deep in his stomach. He had a breathing tube that was lying on his chest unused, so he was breathing normally, that was a good sign. His face sustained many wounds, bruised and swollen, bloodied.

Castiel sat gently on the foot of the bed, “Are you alright?”

“No, thanks to you.” Dean hissed.

“You need to be more careful.” Castiel’s voice was coated with worry.

“You need to learn how to manage a damn devil’s trap.”

Castiel sighed, shaking his head, “That’s not what I mean.” His voice lowered, “Uriel is dead.” 

Dean paused, looking slightly meeker, drawing his attack back in. “Was it the demons?” He sounded genuinely regretful.

“It was disobedience.” Castiel snarled, “He was working against us.”

Dean shook his head, taking it all in. So Uriel was a traitor, but why? Why would angels be turning against each other if it really was all for the “plan” that Castiel seemed to believe so hard in.

“Is it true?” Dean met the angel’s eyes, “Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this?”

Castiel grumbled low, not wanting to answer him. “Yes” He sighed. “When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you--”

“Jump-started the apocalypse.”

Castiel nodded, “And we were too late.”

“Why didn’t you just leave me there, then?” Dean’s voice broke.

“It’s not blame that falls on you, Dean, it’s fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can end it.” his voice filled with a weak, dark kind of hope, “You have to stop it.”

“Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean?” Castiel rose from the bed. Dean reached out for him, “Hey! Don’t you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch! What does that mean!” He demanded.

Castiel lifted his hands, looking defeated. “I don’t know.” 

“Bull.” He snarled, lip rising over his gleaming teeth. 

“I don’t.” the angel met his with honesty, “Dean, they don’t tell me much. I know our fate rests with you.” 

Dean felt so small, so goddamn weak and small. 

“Well then you’re screwed.” His chest filled with anger, fear, pressure. “I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not—I'm not strong enough.” His voice quivered, arms resting weakly at his sides, “Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be. Find someone else. It's not me.”

An unstoppable force trembled through Dean and he felt his body give in to a sob, tears budding up around his eyes. He tried to fight it back, keep it at bay like he usually could but this time it overpowered him. Castiel sat back down on the edge of the hospital bed, hand outstretched toward Dean’s, centimeters away.

For the first time Castiel felt pity for another being, so much so that one could call it empathy. He thought of himself in Dean’s situation, destined to bring about then stop the apocalypse, all odds rested on Dean’s shoulders. He tried to imagine the pressure, then he remembered Uriel’s body lying scorched into the ground, wings splayed out, burned into the earth.

“Sometimes Dean… the pain we experience is meant to teach us, to make us stronger.” He echoed words he had once received from his brother Michael as advice many eons ago.

Dean scoffed, tears rolling down his cheeks. Castiel reached out to him, taking his hand, meeting his eyes with seriousness. 

“You’re not the only one who has lost loved ones, Dean.” 

“I thought you weren’t capable of feeling.” The words seared into Castiel, inflicting pain.

With a thought, he was gone.


	3. Migraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between episodes 4.20 and 4.22 when the boys are hunting down Lilith, about to break the final seal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one I know,  
> Waging my wars behind my face and above my throat?  
> Shadows will scream that I'm alone.
> 
> I am not as fine as I seem, pardon  
> Me for yelling, I'm telling you green gardens  
> Are not what's growing in my psyche, it's a different me,  
> A difficult beast feasting on burnt-down trees  
> Freeze frame please, let me paint a mental picture portrait,  
> Something you won't forget, it's all about my forehead,  
> And how it is a door that holds back contents,  
> That make Pandora's Box's contents look non-violent,  
> Behind my eyelids are islands of violence,  
> My mind's ship-wrecked,  
> This is the only land my mind could find,  
> I did not know it was such a violent island,  
> Full of tidal waves, suicidal crazed lions,  
> They're trying to eat me, blood running down their chin,  
> And I know that I can fight or I can let the lion win,  
> I begin to assemble what weapons I can find,  
> 'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind.
> 
> And I will say that we should take a day to break away  
> From all the pain our brain has made,  
> The game is not played alone.  
> And I will say that we should take a moment and hold it,  
> And keep it frozen and know that  
> Life has a hopeful undertone.

“Cas, hold up. What were you gonna tell me?”

Castiel turned, looking the brothers up and down, then shifting his gaze to Dean alone, “I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve _you._ ”

\---------

Rain poured down the highway, hitting the Impala’s hood in a steady beat. Dean drove silently, eyes glued to the road, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

Sam sounded uncomfortable, fumbling in his seat, “All right, let’s hear it.” 

Dean kept his eyes forward, “What?” 

“Drop the bomb, man. You saw what I did.” Dean remembered watching his little brother chug blood, watching him suck hungrily at the dark liquid like a leech. Sam continued, “Come on, stop the car, take a swing.”

“I’m not gonna take a swing.” He stated simply, keeping his emotions wrangled in tight.

“Then scream, chew me out.” Sam suggested, waiting for Dean to do his thing.

After fighting so long to protect Sam and somehow keep him pure from the evils of the world, Dean felt tired and defeated, knowing his kid brother had grown into a troubled man. “I’m not mad, Sam.”

“Come on.” Sam fought to make eye contact, “You’re not mad?”

“Nope.” 

“Right.” The complete lack of fight from Dean worried Sam more than he could say. “Look, at least let me explain myself.” 

“Don’t. I don’t care.” 

“You don’t care?” Sam asked in return, incredulously.

“What do you want me to say, that I’m disappointed? Yeah, I am. But mostly, I’m just tired, man.” He felt hollow in the chest, having nothing left to give to anybody. “I’m done. I am just done.”

Sam’s phone began to ring, he answered quickly, “Hey, Bobby.”

Dean stared ahead at the road, Sam asked, “What’s going on?”

Sam hung up. Dean looked at him, then back to the road, “What’d he say?”

\-------------------

“This isn’t funny anymore, guys! Let me out!” Sam bellowed from inside Bobby’s panic room. Dean paced, restless. Bobby watched him with weary eyes, suggesting, 

“Why don’t you go out and get some fresh air, boy?” He stood and nudged Dean on the shoulder, “I can handle Sam for a while.” 

Dean immediately shook his head, pacing, thinking, boiling. His head was beginning to hurt in all directions, pounding and pulsating, each beat of his heart sent a shockwave through his entire brain. He winced, hissing. 

“Dean, go.” It wasn’t an invitation. Dean squinted at Bobby’s stern features, turning to leave in a huff. He called after him, “Drink some goddamn water, boy!” 

Dean rolled his eyes, mocking Bobby, mouthing the words he’d just said and scoffing. He stomped up the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to toss some water back, slurping and throwing the cup aside. He burst through Bobby’s back door, making it squeal on its hinges. 

Each step, each beat of his heart his head pounded harder and harder. He began seeing flashing lights and circles in the corner of his eye, wincing from the sharp pain. He sucked in some chilly air, looking out around himself. 

He felt on the verge of exploding with all the shit that had been happening lately. Sam’s a blood junkie, the apocalypse is impending and his angel, who he thought was his friend, suddenly won’t hang around him. It was all enough to make him want to just surrender already.

“Cas,” He said his name gently at first, wondering why he had been avoiding him, wondering what he’d done wrong. Then, as those thoughts progressed, he began wondering why he cared so much. Why did it matter if Castiel didn’t want to be around anymore? Why should he let it bother him?

Well, because… Dean felt like they were just starting to be friends. The time they spent together, Cas asking oblivious questions about Dean’s food or the shows he was watching, popping up randomly in his dreams, following him around on hunts like a puppy, watching, learning, beginning to take on human tendencies. Cas was beginning to feel less like a robot or alien and more like someone Dean felt safe around, felt he could be himself around. Someone he cared about besides Sam. 

“Cas!” he called out, then crumpled in pain at his own yelling, feeling his head scream in protest. He stumbled backward, the backs of his knees finding the hood of one of Bobby’s junk cars. “Cas!” 

His migraine gained power, beginning to make him wobbly and sick to his stomach. His voice shook, calling out, “Cas!” He closed his eyes, searching for solace from his pounding head. The sound of whooshing air and feathers suddenly surrounded him, he snapped his eyes open. 

“Well, it's about time. I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for about two and a half hours now.”

“What do you want?” Cas snapped, and it honestly made Dean backtrack slightly. 

He gulped, trying to maintain his macho-ness, “You can start with what the hell happened in Illinois.”

He cast his head over his shoulders, body still not fully turned to Dean, eyes narrowed.“What do you mean?” 

“Cut the crap. You were gonna tell me something.”

Castiel remembered, but hid the realization well, shrugging, “Well, nothing of import.”

“You got ass-reamed in heaven but it was not of import?”

Cas sighed, eyes scanning Dean, looking and acting like he was pressed for time. “Dean, I can't. I'm sorry. Get to the reason you really called me. It's about Sam, right?

“Can he do it? Kill Lilith, stop the apocalypse?” Dean was filled with doubt. 

“Possibly, yes. But as you know, he'd have to take certain steps.” 

“Crank up the hell-blood regimen.” Dean trailed off, sounding disgusted.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, then met Dean’s eyes, “Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lilith would change your brother forever. Most likely, he would become the next creature that you would feel compelled to kill.” He watched as that particular set of words sunk into Dean, he felt like reaching out to comfort Dean, but stopped himself. “There's no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean. We believe it's you, Dean, not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it. Stand up and accept your role. You are the one who will stop it.”

Dean stared at his cold blue eyes, “If I do this, Sammy doesn't have to?”

Castiel was indifferent, “If it gives you comfort to see it that way.”

Dean’s eyebrows jumped together, looking offended. “God, you're a dick these days.” He turned to leave, then stopped, realizing he wasn’t going to be getting a better offer. Maybe this way he could spare Sam the burden of taking down Lilith, maybe he could really heal and get better. “Fine, I'm in.”

Castiel looked tense, his voice like law, “You give yourself over wholly to the service of God and his angels?”

“Yeah, exactly.” he muttered.

Castiel glued his eyes to Dean’s face, “Say it.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “I give myself over wholly to serve God and you guys.”

“You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?”

Dean gave him a look, “Yes, I swear. Now what?”

Cas looked pleased with himself, “Now you wait, and we call on you when it's time.” He gave Dean a soft, pained expression, then disappeared.

\------------------------------

Sam’s voice shook and roared, “Stop bossing me around, Dean. Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother. Now I'm asking you, for once, trust me.”

Dean looked him over, resolved in his conviction. “No. You don't know what you're doing, Sam.”

Sam snarled, “Yes, I do.”

“Then that's worse.”

“Why? Look, I'm telling you—”

Dean’s expression was filled with pain, “Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means—” he couldn’t continue.

Sam kept his eyes fixated on his brother. “What? No. Say it.” Tears budded up in his eyes.

Dean gulped, feeling his heart snap and fall into his stomach, leaving him aching, “It means you're a monster.”

Sam nodded softly, letting his words sink in. Dean felt hot tears threatening to spill over. Before he can react, Sam swings and lands a punch hard on Dean’s face. He hits the ground hard, left reeling from the sudden shot, before climbing back up to stare at Sam, making sure that had in fact happened. He coils his arm, landing a swing hard on Sam in return. 

Before either of them could take a breath, they were locked in a full-bodied brawl on the floor. They were like titans, absolutely destroying anything and everything in the honeymoon suite. Sam smashed Dean across a table, throwing him to the ground then hovering over him, punching him repeatedly, with reckless abandon. Sam pinned him to the floor and set his hands down hard on his throat, choking him hard before releasing his grip all at once, leaving Dean reeling and gasping. 

Sam’s voice was hard, shaking, “You don't know me. You never did. And you never will.”

He started toward the door, Dean hollered raggedly, “You walk out that door, don't you ever come back.”

Sam stopped at the door to cast a glance backward, before leaving. 

The sound of the door shutting echoed through Dean’s entire being.

\--------------------------------------------

Dean paced Zachariah’s nicely decorated prison cell, more restless than he’d been in his entire life.

“You can't reach him, Dean. You're outside your coverage zone.”

“What are you gonna do to Sam?” 

Cas sighed, “Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Cas looked down, unable to respond. “Oh, right, right. Got to toe the company line.” What had they done to him in heaven? Why was he so cold? Dean didn’t think he could get any lower, yet here he was. “Why are you here, Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes filled with remorse, “We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this.”

That broke him. Not a “we can work through it” not “we’ll work it out” just a flat out “sorry”? No. Dean deserved way more than that after all the shit Castiel had put him through. “‘Sorry’?” His jaw clenched tight, feeling all the anger churn within him he swung hard at Cas, who barely flinched, taking the hit with grace.

Dean hissed in pain, drawing his fist back, reminding himself not to punch Cas ever again, wondering if his knuckles were broken. “It's Armageddon, Cas. You need a bigger word than ‘sorry’.”

Castiel stared into Dean’s eyes in that way that always made him feel so small. “Try to understand -- this is long foretold. This is your…”

“Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch!” Dean felt his face grow hot, stomach twisting. Why couldn’t Cas see that he was being taken advantage of? His faith was being exploited by whoever was in charge, because it wasn’t God anymore. Why couldn’t he see that? “It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real?  _ People _ , families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn?”

Castiel looked heavy with thoughts. “What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here.” He cast his eyes on Dean, looking past his face, eyes locking somewhere deeper, “I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.” He stepped closer, reaching a hand out gently to drift his fingertips down Dean’s cheekbone and jaw, voice eerily serene, “In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.”

Dean stepped backward from his touch harshly, “You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise.” He fought to make contact with Cas’ stone eyes, “This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.”

Cas shrunk from Dean’s eyes, turning away. 

“Look at me!” Dean grabbed his shoulder, spinning him back around to face him. “You know it! You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this, before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me -- now. Please.” Castiel gazed into Dean’s gorgeous green eyes, seeing all the desperation there. He wanted to help, he really did, Dean knew him better than he’d thought he did. 

“What would you have me do?”

“Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it's too late.”

Cas shook his head, “I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed.”

Dean was desperate, “If there is anything worth dying for... this is it.”

Cas shook his head again softly, looking down at his feet. 

“You spineless…” Dean turned to storm away, “…soulless son of a bitch. What do you care about dying? You're already dead.” He looked Cas up and down with hurt in his eyes, declaring, “We're done.”

Cas reached out to him, “Dean --”

Dean roared, “We're done!”

He turned to look behind him, but Castiel has disappeared.

\-----------------------

It was done. The final seal broken. Lilith’s blood opened the gate. Lucifer was coming.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.” Sam sobbed, an inconsolable mess on the motel sofa. Dean walked right past him, fists clenched, walking out past the Impala, walking with no direction, just knowing he needed to get the hell out of his own life. A crushing feeling of hopelessness washed over him and he fell to the ground, knees scuffing up in the pavement, dropped in the middle of a parking lot in the pouring rain. He cried up at the sky, feeling the rain wash his hot tears away, pounding against his flushed face. 

He felt his chest shudder emptily, a heartbroken sob penetrating him, leaving his voice hoarse and his soul weak.

“Dean,” Castiel blocked the rain from Dean’s face, hovering over him with wide eyes. “Dean, what are you doing out here?”

“What does it look like, Cas?” His voice was hollow, shoulders slumping weakly. “I got nothing left to give.”

Castiel reached down to hook his hands up under Dean’s arm sockets, pulling him up swiftly and wrapping his arm around his own shoulder, supporting his weight. With their slight height difference, Cas looked up at Dean, devotion in his eyes. 

“Thanks, Cas.” He tried to pull out of the half-embrace but couldn’t escape as suddenly strong arms wrapped around his middle. He felt the angel tighten his arms to a near vice grip, then he gasped softly as he felt Cas’ nose graze his collarbone through his wet t-shirt. Before he could speak, Cas pulled out of the embrace with a sheepish look on his features, muttering, 

“I’m sorry.” 

Dean looked perplexed, stammering, “Wh-where’d you uh.. Learn hugging?”

Cas cast his eyes to his feet. “I know it’s something that humans do to comfort each other, and I see you and Sam do it so I thought… maybe if I did it you might feel better, so,” he trailed off, looking guilty. 

The sound of the rain hitting the earth surrounded them. They each stood in their sopping-wet clothes, waiting, feeling tension bubble up inside them, coating the air around them. 

Dean took his time responding, shifting his weight from one foot to another, stepping closer to Cas, centimeters away. From this proximity he could see water droplets roll off Castiel’s pitch black hair, sticking to his skin and curling on the ends, blue eyes blinking through thick, water-coated lashes. But Dean couldn’t help but wonder what the angel looked like on the inside, what his true form would be like. He said he had no gender, perhaps that’s why Dean felt so indescribably drawn to him?

The size of the Chrysler building… 

Endless, invisible power, surging through the man formerly known as Jimmy’s veins. Dean remembered the outline of his wings in the warehouse the first night they’d met. The feeling of helplessness, fear and wonder that pumped through his veins in that moment. Nobody had ever made him feel that way.

Dean snapped back into himself, thoughts coming to a halt as Cas placed his hand gently over Dean’s upper arm, in the exact spot he’d left his handprint burned into his skin. He felt his whole being shudder, like an electric shock. Cas drew his hand back, eyes filled with regret, stammering, 

“I’m sorry, Dean, I.. I’m sorry.” He stepped backward, collapsing in on himself. 

Dean wasn’t mad, just intrigued. “What was that?”

The rain began to let up, Cas blinked through the wetness, running a hand through his hair and slicking it back. It had grown out quite a bit since they’d first met, making Cas look even more handsome than usual. His soaking wet clothes hung on his frame, outlining the muscles of his arms and chest through his trench coat. “What was what?”

“When you touched me… I felt something like… electricity?” 

“That was probably my grace, I didn’t injure you, did I?”

“No.” Dean shook his head, Cas was always so overprotective. “No, I’m fine.”

They stood, feet apart, worlds away in their minds.

Dean bit his lip, trying to stop the words before they started, “Will you come here?”

Cas looked up, looking like a kicked puppy. “You what? You want me to…?”

“Damn it, Cas.” Dean stepped aggressively forward, grabbing Castiel by the wrist and placing his hand over the marking perfectly. Instantly, he felt a surge of energy.

Cas tried to pull his hand away, worrying, “Dean, I don’t want to hurt--”

“Shhh.” Dean closed his eyes, stepping closer and focusing in on that feeling surging between them. Behind his closed lids he began to see glowing blue plasma, bubbling and swirling around excitedly. At this distance he could feel Cas’ shaky little breaths, he watched the blue orb of light pulsate behind his eyes. He reached out to place a hand over Castiel’s heart, feeling it quicken and thump erratically. The blue orb matched the beating of his heart, squirming and writhing around.

Dean felt Cas’ warm breath against his neck, just under his ear, they were hugged that close. “Dean,” his heart sputtered, unable to maintain its regular pace. Being this close to the human made Castiel’s vessel twitch and overheat, he felt uncomfortable in his skin and he didn’t know why his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. His head began to swim, confusing feelings firing off all over his body and in his mind.

What he did know was, whatever this feeling was it was the most intense thing he’d ever experienced. 

Dean released his hold on Castiel’s hand, moving his other hand from his chest, cheeks red. Castiel tried to meet his green eyes but they kept darting away. Dean ran a hand through his hair to brush it off, looking up at the sky and sighing a full bodied sigh. 

“End of the world, huh? Bring it on.” 

 

 

 


	4. House of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> takes place 5.03 Free to Be You and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She asked me, "Son, when I grow old,  
> Will you buy me a house of gold?  
> And when your father turns to stone,  
> Will you take care of me?"
> 
> I will make you queen of everything you see,  
> I'll put you on the map,  
> I'll cure you of disease.
> 
> Let's say we up and left this town,  
> And turned our future upside down.  
> We'll make pretend that you and me,  
> Lived ever after happily.

Dean wetted a washcloth, taking it to his jacket, dabbing the blood away from his last hunt. He broke his gaze from the mirror to look down to the sink and looked back up, jumping at the sudden sight of Castiel standing behind him. “God.” His hand crashed down on the sink, “Don't do that.”

All Cas had to say was: “Hello, Dean.” Like always. 

Dean turned to give him a stern talking to, but as he turned he realized Cas was inches from him, practically breathing down his neck. He jumped again then sighed softly, “Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?”

Cas reassessed himself, looking down and muttering, “My apologies.” He took a step back. 

“How'd you find me? I thought I was flying below the angel radar.” He rubbed at his ribs to illustrate, still sore from the angel sigil burned into him. 

“You are. Bobby told me where you were.” Cas wandered the motel room silently, scanning, his computer-like mind noticing something was off, “Where's Sam?”

Dean shrugged into his jacket, sitting on the motel bed, “Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So.” He stood, shifting his weight, “You find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?”

“No.” Castiel reached at the necklace in his pocket, turning the little amulet around in his fingers, “I haven't found him. That's why I'm here. I need your help.”

**“** With what? God hunt? Not interested.”

Cas shook his head softly, looking the tiniest bit distraught. “It's not God. It's someone else.”

**“** Who?”

Cas met his eyes, “Archangel. The one who killed me.”

Dean’s eyebrows knit together, “'Scuse me?”

“His name is Raphael.”

Dean scoffed, laughter rolling off his features, “You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?”

The reference flew right over Castiel’s head, “I've heard whispers that he's walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity.”

“For what?” Dean looked Cas up and down, “Revenge?”

Cas’ resolve was strong, face somber and serious. “Information.”

Dean got up, walking over to the sink, picking up his knife and beginning to clean the blood away, “So, what, you think you can find this dude and he's just gonna spill God's address?”

“Yes, because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him.”

Dean stopped cleaning the knife, “You're serious about this.”

Cas turned toward Dean, eyes beckoning to him. Dean stepped closer, voice full of passion, “So, what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?”

Castiel just stared in confusion, Dean groaned, turning back to clean his knife, “Give me one good reason why I should do this.”

Castiel retorted without missing a beat, “Because you're Michael's vessel and no angel will dare harm you.”

Dean gave him a look, all the pieces falling into place, “Oh, so I'm your bullet shield.”

Cas looked desperate, defeated and out of options. Dean knew the look. “I need your help because you are the only one who'll help me. Please.”

Dean stared at his knife, considering. “All right, fine. Where is he?”

“Maine. Let's go.”

He reached out to touch Dean’s forehead with two fingers. Dean dodged him sharply, “Whoa.”

Cas drew back, “What?”

“Last time you zapped me someplace I didn't poop for a week. We're driving.”

\-------------------------

The two tumbled out of the whorehouse, Dean guffawing in laughter. 

“What's so funny?” Castiel snapped, embarrassed by the entire situation. 

Dean cackled, clamping a hand down hard on Cas’ shoulder, “Oh, nothing. Whoo. It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time.” His eyes became distant as he realized how truly long it had been since he’d been able to laugh like this, “Years.” 

Castiel shrugged out from under his touch, “I’m glad I could serve as a source of amusement to you, Dean.” He turned to storm away, leaving Dean in the alley. Before he could make the dramatic exit he’d intended, strong fingers tugged at his coat tails. 

“Aw, don’t be sore, Cas.” He yanked him backward, making the angel trip over his shoe and fall, luckily Dean was able to catch him before he became acquainted with the pavement. Dean pulled him up in a swift movement, eyes dancing all over his face, “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

Cas felt his cheeks grow hot, “It felt like you were.” He stepped backward out of Dean’s embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Dean’s eyes sparkled devilishly and Cas couldn’t care less if he were telling the truth or not.

They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other. Cas cleared his throat, “I should--”

“No,” the human’s voice trembled as he snagged Cas’ jacket again, fingers clutching at the tan fabric. Cas met his eyes, they were suddenly double the size they had been, sparkling in the dim streetlight outside the alley. “Don’t leave again. Please.” 

Cas tilted his head, “What do you mean again?”

Dean looked exasperated, throwing his hands up, “You always leave! Right when I get used to you being around, thinking I can trust you, you poof away again, leaving me here with my thumb in my ass.”

Cas’ expression looked pained as he tried to process Dean’s statement, taking it literally of course. “You do.. What.. when I’m not here?”

Dean’s voice rose in frustration, “It’s an expression, Cas!”

“An expression that means…?” 

“An expression that means that I miss you, man.” his voice cracked on the end of the statement, feeling his tough outer shell crack.

Castiel stepped slightly closer, gazing deep into the hunter’s eyes, so deeply it made Dean twitch in discomfort. 

“You  _ miss  _ me?” He said it like it was a foreign concept.

Dean didn’t know why, didn’t know what was going on with him. Maybe it’s because he was so damn lonely. Maybe because everyone he’d loved in his life left him, he kept holding out for hope that maybe Castiel could be different than all the rest.

Castiel continued trying to process, “Explain. How do you miss me, Dean?”

Dean dropped his eyes to his feet, looking out around himself at the disgusting alley they were in. He tried to shrug off the subject, “Can we… finish this conversation in the car?”

Cas touched him and they were in the car. Dean felt his stomach lurch. “What’d I say about the goddamn teleporting, Cas?”

“Sorry. It’s just much faster.” Cas sat in the passenger seat, eyes locked on Dean’s face.

“Oh excuse my slow human ass dragging you down.” 

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was low and serious, demanding Dean explain himself. The human pulled in a big sigh, looking anywhere but at Cas.

“I just… well you know I care about you, Cas. And when you just go away without warning it… kind of sucks.” he downplayed, casting his eyes out the window, “I just… I feel better when you’re around.” he sighed sharply, frustrated, “And I don’t know why.”

Cas nodded, calmly digesting his words, voice soft, “I feel the same way.” 

_ You do?  _ Dean’s eyes widened, looking up to meet Cas’, feeling a sense of relief wash over him in knowing he wasn’t the only one feeling these things. He felt a smile tug at his lips, hands gripping the steering wheel, keeping his eyes away from Cas.

Neither of them said another word, Dean drove silently back to his motel, Cas rode like a statue. Neither of them knew the right words to say at this point, but it was relief enough to know that they weren’t going crazy separately. Dean’s jaw clenched and unclenched as they parked outside his motel. 

Cas met his eyes, Dean could practically see the questions buzzing around in his head. He cleared his throat gruffly, “Well, you just gonna sit in the car all night?” With that, he got out of the vehicle, headed toward his room slowly, Cas couldn’t tell if he was waiting for him to follow or not but he followed nonetheless. Dean expected it. 

Once inside his motel room, Dean suddenly felt suffocated. He made an excuse to head off to the bathroom and soon began showering, hoping to shower some of the nerves off him. Why was he nervous around Cas? He was just his buddy like any other dude he’d hung out with. Except he didn’t have any other male friends, just hunters he’d known in passing and Sam. Come to think of it, Dean really didn’t have a friend in the world at the moment. 

He re-emerged into the room in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, acting casual as ever, hearing the TV stir to life as he entered. “Find something on the tube, Cas?” Except the remote was halfway across the room from Cas and his back was turned to it. A lightbulb popped in the bathroom, making Dean jump. 

Cas was beet red as his eyes drank in the sight before him. Dean opened his mouth to question him, but he was gone before he could take the breath to get the words out. Confusion washed over him as he stared at the empty space where Cas had been sitting on the bed, the mattress still sunk down from his weight. 

\-----------------------

Light poured in from all directions, filling the brightly colored room with even more shimmering light. A glass of orange juice cast shimmering orange light all over the white table cloth. An infant Sam stirred in his bassinet until he was soothed by the calming touch of his mother’s gentle milky white hand. 

Dean stared at her with devotion, watching her flutter around the kitchen, snagging his toast out of the toaster as it popped, buttering it and setting it in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head. The phone rang, he watched as she reached for it, her face filling with happiness as he chirped, “Hi honey,”

He watched with sadness as her expression fell, he heard a muffled angry voice on the other end of the phone.

“John, I don’t--- What are you talking about? You have two boys at home.” her voice shook softly, still trying to maintain her cool. Dean watched her face crumple, eyes filling with tears before she pulled the phone away from herself, voice raising to a shout, “Don’t come back, then!”

She slammed the phone on the receiver, crumpling in on herself on the kitchen floor. Dean jumped from his chair at the table, running to her and throwing his little arms around her. She crumpled into his hug, shaking from her tears.

He spoke and his voice was small, but determined, “Don’t worry mom, I know dad still loves you. I love you and Sam loves you.” his mother’s cries only intensified. He buried his face in her soft yellow hair, inhaling, soothing, “I won’t ever leave you mom.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her, sniffling, “I know you won’t sweetheart. You’re my little angel.” she cupped the sides of his face, attempting to smile, looking forced and pained.

Little fingers brushed down her cheek, she closed her eyes at the touch, pulling Dean close and whispering, “I know I’ll always have you, Dean.”

He nuzzled closer, then with a burst of energy jumped backward, “Don’t worry mom, I’ll build us a house of gold and even if dad doesn’t wanna come back, you can live with me and Sammy and we’ll take care of you, mom.”

She smiled genuinely, chest fluttering with emotion. Dean went on, “I’ll give you anything you want mom, cuz I’ll do whatever it takes.”

She kissed his forehead, “I know you will, baby.”

Dean gasped, waking in a cold sweat, reaching out around himself for the warmth of his mother’s embrace, her soft hair, her sweet-smelling skin. His heart dropped as he realized it had been a dream and he couldn’t hold back the sob that ripped from his chest. He sat up in bed, blind through his tears, face hot and stomach sick. He cried out for her, then his dad, then Sam. 

A flutter of air filled the room and suddenly a hand was on his forehead. The human contact made him burst into tears a second time, reaching out blindly and pulling whoever it was closer. He didn’t care, he just needed some kind of comfort. Something to make him feel he wasn’t so fucking alone in the world. 

Cas felt his desperation and just allowed himself to be tugged into his arms. He had more strength than Dean could even fathom and he could crush him with a thought, but the giant, powerful angel let himself be pulled into Dean’s embrace. He sunk into it, just trying to be there for Dean, trying to be a good friend like Dean wanted.

Dean sobbed into his chest, soaking through his layers of clothing, but Castiel didn’t mind. He sunk into the bed with Dean, allowing himself to be pulled under the blankets with him, feeling the hunter’s hot skin scorch into him as he cried. Slowly, cautiously, the angel rested a hand on Dean’s back, the other on his head as he hugged himself close to the angel’s body.

Even slower and more careful, Cas began to rub circles into Dean’s skin with his fingers. His other hand began stroking through his hair, tugging softly and scratching at Dean’s scalp. He hugged Dean close, cooing into his ear, “Shhhh,”

Dean was half-awake, eyes swollen from crying, a hot mess really but Castiel gazed at him like he was something precious, continuing to stroke and soothe him. He felt the hunter’s body relax, face pressed hard against Cas’ chest as his body began to surrender back to sleep. 

Hours passed, Castiel knew Dean was fast asleep but he couldn’t compel himself to move. He felt guilty for how much he was enjoying being this close to Dean. For the first time in his existence he felt he was where he belonged and he felt the blasphemy inside him but he couldn’t fight it back, he knew he cared for this human way too much and he knew he was going to be punished for it but he couldn’t find it in him to care as long as he was the one who got to hold Dean close like this. 

This was Castiel’s flaw, lying right here in his arms. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it sooner. This was the reason he rebelled, the reason he couldn’t follow orders anymore, the reason he felt like he was losing his mind lately. He didn’t know it was possible for him to feel, let alone feel  _ so _ much for just one person. 

_ One tiny human.  _


	5. Car Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> end of episode 5.03 Free to Be You and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ponder of something great  
> My lungs will fill and then deflate  
> They fill with fire  
> Exhale desire  
> I know it's dire  
> My time today
> 
> I have these thoughts  
> So often I ought  
> To replace that slot  
> With what I once bought  
> 'Cause somebody stole  
> My car radio  
> And now I just sit in silence
> 
> Sometimes quiet is violent  
> I find it hard to hide it  
> My pride is no longer inside  
> It's on my sleeve  
> My skin will scream  
> Reminding me of  
> Who I killed inside my dream  
> I hate this car that I'm driving  
> There's no hiding for me  
> I'm forced to deal with what I feel  
> There is no distraction to mask what is real  
> I could pull the steering wheel
> 
> I ponder of something terrifying  
> 'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind  
> I find over the course of our human existence  
> One thing consists of consistence  
> And it's that we're all battling fear  
> Oh dear, I don't know if we know why we're here  
> Oh my,  
> Too deep  
> Please stop thinking  
> I liked it better when my car had sound
> 
> There are things we can do  
> But from the things that work there are only two  
> And from the two that we choose to do  
> Peace will win  
> And fear will lose  
> There's faith and there's sleep  
> We need to pick one please because  
> Faith is to be awake  
> And to be awake is for us to think  
> And for us to think is to be alive  
> And I will try with every rhyme  
> To come across like I am dying  
> To let you know you need to try to think

Dean thumped his hand along against the wheel, humming to “Enter Sandman” as he sped down the highway. Cas rode shotgun. He’d been completely silent the entire ride, Dean looked him up and down with sympathy. He didn’t give a shit if they found God or not but to see Cas this tore up about it upset him, “You okay?”

Cas is silent, staring out the window. 

Dean shifted his eyes between him and the road, “Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers.”

Castiel turned from the window, eyebrows knitted over his deep, sad eyes, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?”

Cas’ features filled with slight hope, “I believe he's out there.”

“Good. Then go find him.”

Cas gazed at Dean, watching his hands grip the wheel, eyes drifting from his perfect face, down his body. He caught himself, reeling it in and asking in a low voice, “What about you?”

“What about me? I don't know.” A shaky, nervous sounding chuckle escaped him, “Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm really good.”

“Even without your brother?” Cas’ voice piqued in interest. 

“Especially without my brother.” He felt crazy saying it but it felt so true, “I mean, I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not that much fun.” He looked Cas up and down, “It's funny, you know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy.”

Dean looked over; he’s alone. His smile falters.

He felt a chunk of his heart break, hands gripping the wheel tighter, forcing himself to focus on the road. His Metallica tape needed to be flipped, but he didn’t notice, engrossed in thoughts. What was Cas’ endgame? Why was he continually getting close to Dean only to flutter away at the last second. What was he afraid of? Hell, for that matter what was Dean so afraid of?

He kept barrelling down the highway, seeing an exit sign read “FOOD & ENTERTAINMENT” a shimmering neon sign glowed in the distance. If he was correct, he definitely knew what that glow was. He took the exit, following the light like an insect flying toward a porch light.

Sure enough, Dean had found himself a strip club. He pulled into the seedy parking lot, making sure his doors were locked before walking in through velvety red doors.

Castiel stood outside by the Impala, watching with pained eyes as he walked in. 

As soon as Dean was inside he ordered a beer and took a couple shots of whiskey, the bartender cutting him off before he could get a third drink order in, alarmed at the rate he was pounding down drinks. Dean muttered something under his breath, wandering toward the stage, taking a seat among the handful of men in the place, making sure to stay far away from anybody else.

He watched as a busty redhead emerged from the curtain to the opening riff of “Pour Some Sugar on Me”. She spun once around the pole, leaning out to give the audience a full view of her cleavage, turning to show her ass too as she bent down, folding herself in half. Dean felt his pants tighten. 

He was a little ashamed at how horny he was, feeling the alcohol hit him and make his blood boil with lust. He watched as she finished her little dance, teasing around pulling her top off but never actually doing it. Dean groaned, waiting for her to exit the stage so he could try to get a piece of her.

As she left, he stood, pretending to go to the bathroom, which was in the same hallway as the entrance to the “dancer’s lounge” which surprisingly wasn’t guarded or even locked. Then again, he was in the middle of a little podunk town in god knows where, he honestly couldn’t remember what state he was in at the moment. With his hazy reasoning, he brushed past the door, sneaking a corner and stealthily sliding into a room where he saw several dancers sitting, chatting amongst themselves. 

He stood, breathing as silently as he could. He scanned the room, not seeing the redhead he wanted, he waited in the shadows. 

“Hey! What the hell are you--” Dean turned and clasped a hand over the very woman he’d been spying after’s mouth, grinning and winking at her. 

“Shhh,” He shifted them out of the room softly, releasing her in the hallway and swiftly pulling a badge from his pocket, “Can you keep a secret?”

The confused girl huffed, “What?”

“You heard me, can you keep a secret?”

“What the fuck were you doing in there, creep?” she snapped. 

Dean raised an eyebrow at her tenacity, liking it a lot. “Ok, you got me, look I just didn’t want to upset the other girls, but… something weird is going on here. Have you noticed anything strange about the management here?”

“Other than the fact that they’re pricks?” Dean spotted a tattoo just above her hip, his eyes drifted along her black lace getup, spotting her nipples resting there in the fabric. He reached out a hand to drift up her arm and was surprised that she let him touch her.

“I mean like… really strange.” He met her eyes, watching as her fiery exterior began to crumble, like most women he had come across she had that weak spot when he looked at her in that certain way he’d perfected over the years, pouting his lips and pulling his eyebrows together.

Her eyes drank in the image of Dean, he swore he saw her cheeks get red, “The only thing that’s really strange is this.” she gestured between the two of them, turning to storm off. 

“Wait!” He reached for her, going a drastic measure and pushing her into a wall, sandwiching her between himself and the wall. He ghosted a finger down her face, pulling her chin up and meeting her blue eyes. They reminded him too much of someone else’s. He shifted his focus to her lips, then just went for it.

He felt a slight struggle as he began to kiss her, her hands pressing into his chest, trying to push him away. As he nipped at her bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and sucking the resistance stopped. As she began to kiss him back, he pulled away, skimming his nose down her neck and latching onto her, suckling and growling softly. She melted, wrapping her arms up around his neck and letting a moan escape her lips into his leather jacket.

“Who are you?” her voice shook with fear, excitement?… Dean couldn’t tell. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed her hand, knitting his fingers between hers, “You wanna have a good time?” 

Her cheeks were flushed, breathing uneven, she nodded softly. 

Dean grinned, he shook off his heavy jacket, placing it around her shoulders and pulling her out toward the exit. They hit the cold night air as he led her toward his car, opening the door for her and climbing in after her. He quickly locked the doors, turning to her, eyes devouring her, roaming up and down. 

He needed something real, something he could grab, hold onto. He needed to get his mind off Cas. Why the fuck was he even thinking about him right now? As he was about to get laid? Something was wrong with Dean. He practically lunged at the girl, hovering over her until he could push her into the upholstery of his beloved vehicle.

She was keeping up with him, seeming equally as enthusiastic. She reached forward to palm him through his jeans, gasping at what she felt there, “Oh my god,” her eyes were wide as she met Dean’s lust blown green eyes. He panted, not having been touched in so long. 

She wasted no time, pushing him on his back and unzipping his jeans, yanking his underwear down quickly as she groaned at the sight of his big cock as it broke free from the fabric restraining it, lying heavy against his stomach, dripping with precome, beyond ready to fuck. She made a face, eyeing it before placing her lips over the tip and plunging forward, taking him in a needy gulp. 

Dean gasped, reaching out around himself, nails digging into the cushions of his car. The windows began to fog up as she continued, making Dean ache, feeling the orgasm building in his low stomach, he pulled her away before he could cum. He grabbed her by the wrists, voice ragged, “How do you wanna do this?”

She swallowed the spit in her mouth, “First of all, you got a condom, right?”

Dean reached in his pocket, pulling one out with a cheeky grin, “Always.”

“Good.” She pulled his jacket off her shoulders, climbing up over him and taking the condom from his hand, opening it and rolling it down over his cock with a dirty smile. Dean groaned, sinking lower into the cushions. Before he knew what was happening, before he could really savor the moment, he suddenly felt wet warmth surrounding him. 

“Oh, honey,” His voice grated, deep and low. Instinctually, he clawed into her hips and flipped her over, closing his eyes and letting his hips do their thing. She couldn’t keep up, gasping and moaning, calling out over and over, digging her nails into his back and biting his shoulder. Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up as he moved to sit, thrusting up into her as she bounced on his lap, voice breaking and squeaking.

For the first time since he’d started fucking her, he opened his eyes to meet a pair of light blue eyes. He instantly regretted it as flashes of Cas entered his mind. 

He kept bucking like nothing was wrong but when he came it was half-hearted and distracted. He didn’t even feel good after the whole thing, looking at her lying on his upholstery in a heap and suddenly feeling disgusted with himself. He pulled the condom off, tying it at the end and letting it drop to the floor, deciding he’d deal with it later. All he knew was he wanted this girl out of his car and he wanted to forget he’d ever done that.

Luckily, she’d probably done this more than a few times and she didn’t linger long for small talk. Dean was grateful as he fired up the Impala and drove away. The guilt clung to him like the sweat on his skin, he could still smell their bodies in the car, nose turning up in disgust for the first time in ever. Usually the scent women left behind made him hungry for more, but this time it just left him feeling empty inside.

He drove for miles, possibly hours, he couldn’t tell the difference. All the while, to absolute silence. He drowned in his thoughts, fighting with them, trying to push them away as he worried over himself. What other guy would think about his best friend while getting laid? What the hell was going on with him? He didn’t know himself anymore.

He kept on driving, until he felt his eyes flutter, but he ignored it, pushing onward in no direction in particular. All he knew was he didn’t want to stop driving because it might invite more thoughts in. He just had to keep driving until he outran his thoughts, until he could push them down deep enough. His head dipped, then he jerked back awake, swerving slightly. 

“Pull over, Dean.” he snapped his head toward the voice, indeed seeing Castiel sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed, looking furious.

Dean yawned, “Nah, I’m fine.”

“You are not fine, pull over.” his voice was gravely, angry. 

Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard Cas be angry before.

“If you don’t pull over I’ll just materialize your vehicle in a police station, would that work better for you?”

“Jesus, Cas, calm down, I’ll pull over, okay?” he pulled off to the side of the road, thick trees surrounded the highway. 

“Of all the stupid ways to die, Dean…” Castiel’s eyes scorched him like a hot blue flame.

Dean immediately jumped on the defensive, “What do you care!” He flung his arms up in the air as he often did when he felt small.

“What do I care?” Castiel repeated his words, punctuating each strictly.

“Besides me being Michael’s vessel, what purpose do I serve, Cas?”

Castiel’s expression sunk, “How can you think so little of yourself, Dean?”

“What is there to like about me? All I do is hurt everyone I love and kill things.”

Castiel’s voice was barely a whisper, “You’re so much more than you see.”

“‘Scuse me?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at him, taking a step forward, then stopping himself.

“What?” Dean snapped.

Cas looked constipated, voice rising in irritation, “I wish I could make you see yourself as I see you.”

Dean gazed into Cas’ mysterious, puzzle-like eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

Cas exhaled sharply, “I don’t know the right words for this.”

Dean stepped closer, intrigued, “For what?”

“This!” Cas gestured between them desperately, “I… I’ve never in my existence felt so frustrated and confused.”

The howl of a coyote pierced the air around them. Their eyes never broke contact.

“I’m not equipped for emotion, yet I find myself experiencing a myriad of emotions whenever I’m with you.” Cas searched Dean’s face for something, eyes reeling and seeking. He stepped closer, their faces only inches apart, “That’s why I have to leave so suddenly at times, I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Cas,” Dean began, but Cas wasn’t finished.

“I feel my vessel grow hot whenever you’re near, something in my chest won’t stop rattling, I can’t focus…”

“Cas,”

“I think about you whenever I’m not with you, I wonder what you’re doing… or I see what you’re doing and it just hurts me.” Castiel looked pained, something in Dean snapped into place and he realized Cas knew about the redhead. 

Before he could explain why, he felt himself stumbling to make excuses to him, “She meant nothing, Cas, I just--” he stopped himself, hearing the words come out of him but not believing they’d actually come out of him. 

“I don’t care who you have sex with, Dean.” Cas was a terrible liar. “It’s none of my business.”

“It--she…” again, he found himself filled with guilt.

“You don’t owe anything to me, Dean.” the way he said it was so cold, like they weren’t even friends anymore.

Dean felt his heart break at the thought of losing Cas as a friend, he was the only one he had left. “Cas,”

“I believe… you and I should… spend some time apart.”

“You’re breaking up with me, Cas?” he tried to make it sound funny but there was no humor in his voice.

“I need to get my priorities back in order.”

“Oh.” Dean’s expression fell, knowing this day would come, just hoping it wouldn’t be today.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“No, Cas, I’m sorry.” he gazed at him with deep sincerity, Cas thought he saw tears budding at the corners of his eyes. He felt his heart lurch forward at him, but he kept his feet planted.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Cas.” 

He waited until he knew the angel was gone to let tears fall from his eyes.


	6. Semi-Automatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after Cas and Dean's last fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night falls, with gravity  
> The earth turns, from sanity  
> Taking my only friend I know  
> He leaves a lot, his name is Hope
> 
> [Chorus]  
> I'm never what I like  
> I'm double-sided  
> And I just can't hide  
> I kinda like it  
> When I make you cry  
> Cause I'm twisted up, I'm twisted up, inside
> 
> [Verse 2]  
> The horrors of the night melt away  
> Under the warm glow of survival of the day  
> Then we move on  
> My shadow grows taller along with my fears  
> And my frame shrinks smaller as night grows near  
> When the sun is climbing window sills  
> And the silver lining rides the hills  
> I will be saved for one whole day  
> Until the sun makes the hills its grave

Dean plunged a silver blade through the skinwalker’s chest, digging deep into its heart, right between two rib bones. He felt it shudder, shift its weight on him and watched as it died, silver light flickering out of its eyes. He felt nothing.

He pulled the weapon backward, letting the monster fall to the floor in a heap, sucking in a breath and spitting on its body. He pulled the blade along his jacket, wiping blood away in a swift motion from both sides, stashing the blade away at his side in one fluid motion. It was all beginning to feel so monotonous.

He wondered where Sam was, how he was, what he was doing. The questions bounced off the walls inside his mind constantly. He knew he had to let Sam live his own life, without his constant involvement, they’d both made an agreement.

It had been a few months since he’d even talked to Sammy, the initial wound of losing his brother felt like losing an arm, but in the time since his body and mind had learned how to get along with the phantom limb, the numbness. Losing Cas though, that one left a sting in Dean, like a fresh cut filled with lemon juice.

He couldn’t explain why, but the weeks that had passed without Castiel felt like years. He kept himself busy, trying not to dwell too hard on the feelings, not to think about the angel. He wondered if Cas could still hear him even when he wasn’t trying to think about him. Each day felt longer than the last and he felt his whole being yearning for that closeness again.

That awkward, uncomfortable closeness. Deep, blue eyes staring way too deep into his, making his face burn with blood and mixed emotions. That weird, all-knowing air about him. The way he just fluttered into a room without warning, regardless of what you were doing or wearing, like he had a distinct right to be there.

Dean missed feeling wanted by somebody. Cas made him feel important, he couldn’t deny that fact any longer. The way Cas looked at him made him feel like he was the most important thing in the universe and it hurt him more than anything to look into Cas’ eyes and see that his mind was busy with something else, far away. Lately Cas had been very far away, so out of reach that Dean was beginning to question if his time with him was even real or if he’d just imagined the whole thing.

 _Cas,_ he started, with no thought on where he was going. For once he just let his mind process what he was going through without censoring himself, _Cas, where are you, man? I know you can hear me. I know you’ve been hearing me. Why’d you just go and disappear again?_ He winced at his own anguish, stomach twisting, _You know I hate when you do that._

He opened his eyes, part of him always wishing Cas would just flutter in. But he didn’t.

_What did I do wrong? Is it because I won’t let your brother Michael wear me like a muppet? Cas talk to me._

He paced the small motel room, knuckles white in tight fists.

_Castiel. Get your feathery ass down here._

Nothing.

\-------------------

A large, clear lake lay out before him, an expanse of mossy green curling up into low hanging trees and foliage, surrounded by the soft chatter of wildlife. The riverbeds crawled up into grass, which splayed out into a field of daisies, where a tormented angel sat, head in his hands.

A toad croaked loudly and a visage of the angel Gabriel slowly appeared at Castiel’s side, arm slung around his shoulders. Cas jumped softly as he felt the matter materialize next to him, eyes opening to see his brother, “Gabriel,”

“Don’t look so shocked, I know it’s been a while but come on lil’ bro, ouch.” He feigned pain, wincing.

Before Castiel could ask, Gabriel began, “Relationship troubles?” He felt his brother study his face, he kept his eyes trained hard on the lake in front of him. The angel sighed, “Oh, you two deserve each other, you’re both so emotionally constipated it’s sickening.”

“Wha-?”

“Oh, Cas, honey,” Gabriel pulled his brother’s hands from his face, sighing and stroking his cheek fondly, that joking glimmer always present in his eye, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but, you’re in love with Dean Winchester.”

“Now is not the time for jokes, Gabriel.” Cas’ voice was solid and low.

“I wouldn’t joke about it.”

Cas stared at him hard, fear and disbelief in his eyes, “How can you say that? We… you know we are not equipped for such feelings.”

“Not equipped?” Gabe raised an eyebrow, “Bro, look at Lucifer. Of course we’re equipped to feel, that’s exactly why dad doesn’t want us to don’t you know that?” He met Cas’ eyes, which were still doubtful, “Ok, hear me out,” He sat back on his haunches a little, getting more comfortable, “Do you feel physically warm around him?”

Cas met his eyes with suspicion. “Does your heart thud or sputter? Do you feel sick or lightheaded? Uncontrollably weak?” Gabriel spoke with a knowing voice, eyes looking deep and lost. “Irrational, even?”

Cas’ eyes were wide and watery around the edges, he caught his breath and clenched his jaw, trying to hide the crushing feeling inside him as Dean called his name from a world away. He met Gabriel’s eyes, tears slipping hot down his cheeks.

“All of that. And more.” Cas dug his fingers into his hair, gazing sightlessly out at the lake in front of them, “When Dean Winchester so much as looks at me I feel my whole being quiver, he makes me feel so weak, so defenseless. The burning I feel inside whenever I see anyone intend to harm him is intense, my grace grows twice as strong. Then, when he’s safe and sound I just want to hover nearby and watch him be peaceful, I feel… he needs me. I.. I don’t know.”

“Well Cas, you picked a doozy with this one. He’s never gonna be able to function in a healthy relationship, sorry to spoil it for ya little bro.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want anything from him, I just want to be near him.”

Gabriel muttered to himself, “Oi, it’s worse than I thought.” He cleared his throat, “Cas, listen, what needs to happen is: you need to tell him how you feel, in whatever way that works for the two of you."

“I told him I wasn’t going to see him for a while.”

“Why’s that?”

Cas chuckled to himself, half-heartedly, “This is stupid, but… he slept with some nameless woman and I just…”

“You’re jealous.”

Cas perked an eyebrow curiously, “Jealous?”

“Yeah,” Gabe coughed, “You, uh, you wish it were you Dean were sleeping with, right?”

Cas blushed hard, looking away and stammering.

_Cas! Where are you? Come on down, look I’m sorry for what happened between us. I don’t fully understand but I know that I was a bad friend to you and for that I’m sorry. I need you Cas, I need you around, I miss you man. I miss your blank stares, the way you get too close. I…_

_Ah, fuck._

Cas felt the prayer hit him like a slap, making his head hurt as he received the message.

Gabriel furrowed his brow, “Cas, is he praying to you right now?”

“Yes.”

“Hot.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gabe stood to stroll around the lake, fanning out his wings for a good stretch. Cas looked up, seeing milky honey colored wings splayed out in the night sky. All his life he’d admired Gabriel for being so opposite of himself, he was so outgoing, so versed in human culture, so experienced. So versed in human culture…

“Gabriel.”

“Yeah, still here.”

“If… what you say is true and I need to tell Dean how I feel, then… how do I go about doing that? How do humans show affection?”

Gabe’s dirty little mind ran through so many things he could say to his brother, but he backed off, deciding to start with a precaution, “Now, Cas, Dean is what they call an aggressive heterosexual, which means he’s going to be very against the idea of the two of you uh.. Being intimate, ok? So you have to be prepared for that to blow up in your face.”

He paced, genuinely trying to think of how his brother could maneuver that situation, “But, I do think he cares about you. So, maybe take the physical stuff really slow.”

“Gabriel, I don’t even know how to begin to touch him!”

“I… dude… this is getting weird. I suggest you watch some films.” Gabriel poofed the two of them into a room with a computer, with a thought the website was on a softcore gay porn and before Cas could say anything, he left the room.

Cas’ mouth was opened in protest, but his curiosity took over and he watched as two men walked toward each other, closing the space between them in a slow kiss. Cas watched with intrigue and pure, cold, calculating eyes, studying the exact way they touched.

_Cas, I could really use some help right about now._

 He watched the two men pull their shirts over their heads, then reach out to touch each other’s chests and rub pelvis’ together. One backed the other into a wall and began thrusting his hips into him, kissing his neck.

_Cas, what are you doing? Come down here!_

He watched the larger man pin the smaller into a couch, pulling his pants down and unzipping his pants. Cas’ heart pounded as he watched what he knew was coming, but he still hadn’t ever intended to see. He watched the man play with the smaller man’s hole before shoving himself in, Cas gasped softly.

_Cas, I know you’re mad at me. Can we at least talk about it? I want to talk to you, face-to-face and you’ll see that I really am sorry. I don’t know what’s going on between us but I know that I need you around. You hear me?_

_Cas, please, I need you._

_\-------------------_

Nighttime is when he felt the weakest, when he felt the most alone. Lying in bed, surrounded in sheets that just couldn’t feel warm. Everything around him was foreign and cold. He cast his gaze to the side, looking at the empty twin next to him, he was stuck in such a habit of ordering twin rooms that he couldn’t bring himself to order a room with a single bed, then his loneliness would become unbearable.

At least with the other bed there, if Sam or Cas decided to come back they’d have somewhere to stay. He kept holding out for that hope, despite all logic and harsh reality surrounding him. The longer Cas stayed away the more he was beginning to feel like a dream.

He stared at the blank ceiling above him. “Cas.”

_Look, I know I’m twisted up, and I know it’s fucked up but I almost like it when I see you cry because I know that means you care…_

_Truth is, I feel weaker without you around. I don’t know what this is, but I want you to know that I miss you and I’m sorry for hurting you._

“I’ve missed you too, Dean.”

“Cas!” Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, jolting up in bed, eyes flying wide open to see Castiel indeed standing at the foot of his bed. He jumped out of the sheets, lunging himself at Cas, who caught his sloppy hug, pulling the hunter up into a proper embrace, each wrapping their arms around the other.

They let themselves be close, without thinking about it, just happy to see the other after weeks of being alone. Dean reached up to tangle his fingers in Cas’ dark hair, pulling back just enough to be face to face with him. He felt the air catch in Cas’ lungs as his wide eyes scanned Dean’s incredibly close face, seeing a galaxy of light freckles splayed out across his cheeks and the delicate bridge of his nose.

His voice was rough, but shaky with emotion, “Don’t you disappear on me again, Cas.”

Cas tried to pull out of his embrace, Dean’s arms wouldn’t allow it, “Dean, there’s something I need to say.”

“Me too.” The hunter had a hand planted firmly on the back of Cas’ neck, gripping the hair there roughly, his other arm wrapped around Cas’ shoulder, keeping him close. He felt the angel shake and sucked in a heavy breath, “Cas, I thought about everything that happened. I’ve thought a lot about you and me.”

Cas was in kissing range from Dean, he blinked slow and heavy, “And?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away Cas, I just… All I’ve known is pain. Everyone I’ve ever cared about has been taken from me, I just didn’t want to add another casualty to the list, but you and I are adults and…”

Cas waited with yearning in his eyes, deep anticipation.

 “What I’m saying is… it won’t be easy and, we might tear each other apart, but… the way I feel when I’m around you, I just… I’ve never felt like this before and… I feel like I’m losing my mind when you’re gone.”

Cas reached up gently to cup the hunter’s stubbly cheek, looking deep into his emerald green eyes, watching sparks of gold fly off of them as he said, blinking heavily, “I can’t think of anything else when you’re not around, and besides Sammy there’s nobody else I’d rather have hurt me than you.”

“I would never hurt you, Dean.”

“Look, I’ve never… done this, alright? Everyone I’ve ever liked I’ve had to watch fade away in the rearview.”

“No force on Heaven or earth can keep me from you, Dean.”

A little too Hallmark-y for Dean’s taste, but with Cas he knew it was the truth. “Look, I don’t know how to say this so I’m just gonna spit it out.”

They stared at each other long and hard. Dean knew Cas could hear his thoughts before the words came out of his mouth, but he still forced himself to say them, “I have feelings for you, Cas.”

From this proximity Cas could hear every thought bouncing around in Dean’s mind.

_He smells so good._

_He’s so close._

_Why haven’t you kissed him already?_

_What are you afraid of?_

Cas touched his forehead to Dean’s, letting his eyes slip shut as he inched forward and asked softly, “May I?”

Dean’s heart stuttered, they both knew exactly what he was talking about, yet the tension just kept on building. Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Cas heard it in his thoughts before he could say it and finally the magnetism between them became too much and they collided. Initially, Dean tried to jerk away but as he felt Cas push harder at his lips something in him snapped. His resolve? His sanity? He didn’t care.

Dean ducked his head softly to the side, trying to kiss more of Castiel’s strangely soft lips, feeling light stubble rub against his chin. He placed his hands on his the angel’s chest, for the first time feeling strong muscle there instead of breasts like the usual recipients of his kisses. It was strange, sure, but it didn’t stop him.

Light bulbs flickered and popped in the room, the TV flipping through channels rapidly, objects beginning to swirl around them.

Cas broke from Dean’s lips to kiss down the side of his face, along his jaw and deep in his neck, leaving hungry, tender kisses. Dean gasped as the TV popped, sputtering glass out everywhere, “Cas, are you doing that?”

“Yes,” He pulled his face up from Dean’s neck, lips plump and red from kissing, cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry.”

The angel still hovered over the hunter’s body, careful not to put his weight down on Dean entirely. “It’s okay,” He gazed at Cas longingly.

“Dean,” His voice was so close Dean could practically hear it rumble out from his chest.

“Yeah?” He met his eyes, unable to hide the emotion in his anymore. He felt naked, but he let Cas look into his eyes.

 “Dean, was that okay?”

“Was what okay, Cas?” Dean felt drunk.

“The kiss. Did I do okay?”

“What you’ve never kissed anybody either?”

Cas cast his eyes away, backing up and sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean instantly felt regret.

“Cas,” He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “Cas, it was perfect.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Dean.” He hid his face in his hands. Dean pulled his hands away, cupping his chin.

“Cas, why would I lie to you?” He pulled the angel closer by the chin, “I mean, you could use more practice for sure…” Cas’ eyes slipped shut as warm lips brushed softly against his, as if asking permission before parting, Cas felt something warm and wet outline the shape of his lower lip. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, making Cas gasp softly.

He felt Dean’s nose rub up against his own, faces pressed so close, Dean’s hands inescapable on either side of Cas’ face. Cas felt something prod gently at his tongue, when he realized it was Dean’s tongue he blushed.

“So shy.” Dean cooed against his mouth, kissing the stubbly skin there.

Cas pushed him back, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, trying to regain his breath. Dean chuckled, eyes drinking him in like he’d forget what he looked like. Cas finally gained enough momentum to put together a sentence,

“Dean,” He gripped the hunter’s shirt, pulling him closer, “Dean, I need to ask you something.”

Dean’s eyebrows drew together at the seriousness in the angel’s voice, “Anything, Cas.”

He gulped, the words sticking to his throat. “Dean… If you and I are going to… be close like this, I need to know something.”

“Yeah, okay, what?”

“I need to know that-” Cas cut himself off, looking out of breath, “I have to know that…”

“Have to know what, Cas?”

Dean watched the brunette struggle to get the words out, though he had a feeling about what was coming he just enjoyed watching Cas’ squirm and fight to articulate himself. It made him feel slightly better about being so out of whack with his own emotions. Cas’ lips formed a strict line, he forced the words out,

“I need to know that I’m the only one.” Their eyes met, “I can’t bear the thought of another person touching you or being close to you.”

“You can’t?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“No, I can’t.”

“So... what you’re saying is…” he lead the angel, gesturing with his hand.

“I need you, I need to know that you need me. That when you feel alone you’ll call for me.. When you want to be loved you’ll reach for me. I’ll be the one to touch you, nobody else.”

“Possessive, eh?”

“Dean.” Castiel was in no joking mood.

“All right, all right, yes. I hear ya. Okay? No more booty calls, I promise.”

“Dean.”

“Cas.” he brushed his thumb along his cheek, staring at him with love in his eyes.

Cas felt his grace pulsate fiercely, yearning to reach out and touch Dean. Dean shivered softly as he felt something warm cascade up and down his back, closing his eyes and muttering, “Mmm, that feels good.” Cas watched with shock as his grace began wrapping itself around Dean’s body, lowering him into his bed.

It had curled itself around everything it could reach, digging between his toes and fingers, wrapping around his arms and legs, working at his neck, back, any muscle that was tense. Dean felt his body ooze into a puddle as relaxation washed over him, It was only when he opened his eyes that he jolted upward in shock, seeing wispy blue energy curling around his body, but the grace tightened and held him down, sending a strong vibration throughout his entire body, making him moan.

“Caas, what are you doing?”

“Dean, I apologize… my grace is… acting out.”

“Yeah well tell it to…” he trailed off as the full body vibration increased, sending shivering pleasure filled tingles up and down his spine, his cock involuntarily growing with blood. Cas watched as that happened, seeing the bulge rise in Dean’s pants, he felt he was taking something that wasn’t his.

He drew his grace back in, drawing it away from Dean, forcing it back into himself. He struggled with it, before finally getting it all back into place, breathlessly apologizing, “Dean, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen,”

Dean was still splayed out on the bed, body recovering from the onslaught of pleasure. He struggled, gasping, “What the hell was th-that?”

“My grace… it wanted to-- to give you pleasure.” He looked ashamed, “I apologize, I didn’t know how powerful it was.”

“‘S’okay Cas,” his chest heaved raggedly, erection softening and falling. If he was being honest with himself it turned him on that Cas could get him hard without even touching him. Freaky, but sexy. Dean had never even considered getting close to one of the monsters he fought, but Cas proved to be something different entirely. Other-worldly. Yet he was a breathless heap in a trench coat standing before him.

 To know that the angel felt even remotely the same about him was a relief off his shoulders that he couldn’t put into words. It felt like after years of searching for something to make him feel whole he could finally rest, knowing that Castiel, all mighty Angel of the Lord had a soft spot for him.

Finally he could fall asleep knowing he belonged somewhere in someone’s world. No matter how strange or weird a world it was, he felt content just to be needed by someone that could make him feel wanted in return.

“Dean,”

“Yeah, Cas?” 

“Can I stay here tonight, with you?”

“Where else would you go?”

A smile spread over Cas’ features and Dean knew it was right.


	7. Screen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during 5.10 Abandon All Hope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know why I would go  
> In front of you and hide my soul  
> Cause you're the only one who knows it  
> Yeah, you're the only one who knows it  
> And I will hide behind my pride  
> I don't know why I think I can lie  
> Cause there's a screen on my chest  
> Yeah there's a screen on my chest
> 
> [Chorus]  
> I'm standing in front of You  
> I'm standing in front of You  
> I'm trying to be so cool  
> Everything together trying to be so cool  
> I'm standing in front of You  
> I'm standing in front of You  
> I'm trying to be so cool  
> Everything together trying to be so cool

“Is this okay?” Cas looked up from Dean’s chest, chin on his sternum, leg cast over him and arms wrapped around him tight. Dean smiled, running a hand through the angel’s dark hair, watching it slip between his fingers like silk. Once he let Cas be close to him he’d wondered why he hadn’t let him in sooner.

“Yes, Cas, this is fine.” he yawned, letting himself relax into the embrace, “You don’t need to keep asking.” 

Cas let his head lie against Dean’s chest, feeling his warmth radiate through his thin t-shirt, listening to his heart beat steady and hard. “I don’t?”

“No, Cas, I trust you.”

The angel spread his hand out on his chest, splaying his fingers, walking them slowly up Dean’s body, poking at his chin, pulling his face up, inching closer, “So… I can do this?” He locked eyes with him before diving in slowly to catch his lips in a kiss.

Dean kissed him back, reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck. Cas hugged Dean close tightly, feeling the hunter push up against him, he let himself be moved. Dean flipped him over, hovering over Cas, kissing him harder. 

He broke from his lips all at once, leaving the angel feeling light-headed and wanting. “I don’t know why I tried to deny this.”

“Me either.” Cas was breathless, cheeks flushed and skin warm. 

A sudden knock landed at the door, hard and demanding. Dean knew that knock, he picked himself up off the bed, trying desperately to straighten himself out, running a hand through his hair and fiddling with his clothes. Cas lie calmly on the bed, watching him. Dean made a desperate motion at him, whisper-yelling, “It’s Sam, get up!”

Castiel stood swiftly, looking unphased. Dean panicked over himself, “Do I look normal?”

“Your cheeks are a bit flushed, but other than that, yes.” The angel reached out and plucked a stray hair that was resting on his face. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of your brother?”

“I’m not afraid of Sam, I’m afraid of him finding out about us.” 

“Why?”

The rapid knock sounded again, followed by Sam’s annoyed voice, “Dean, you in there?”

“Yeah, gimme a second!” 

“Dean the longer you keep him out the more uncomfortable this will be.”

“Oh, shut it, Cas.” The angel rolled his eyes, with a thought materializing in Bobby’s living room. 

Dean walked toward the door, opening it and feigning a smile. “Hey.”

Sam’s eyes scanned his brother’s features. He sighed, sounding strained, “Dean. Ellen, Jo, Bobby and I are ready to go, whenever you are…” 

“Mmhm, yeah.” Dean was visibly distracted, eyes peeking out behind Sam to see Cas standing next to Bobby, like nothing had happened. Cas being an angel and all made it really easy to hide what was going on between them. 

“Dean.” His voice was sharp, he ran his hands through his hair, “We need you today.”

Boy did they. Dean came out of the spare room Bobby had let him stay in, joining the others in the living room. Ammunition, holy water, food, water and other supplies lay strewn throughout Bobby’s home. 

Ellen complained as Bobby set up a camera on a tripod. “Oh come on, Bobby. Nobody wants their picture taken.”

Sam cheered, “Hear, hear.”

“Shut up. You're drinking my beer.” Bobby sneered.

Bobby rolled his wheelchair backward, happy with the tripod, “Anyway, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by.”

Everyone clustered together, Dean and Cas joining in on opposite sides. Ellen made a noise, “Ha! Always good to have an optimist around.”

Cas’ voice was grave and serious, “Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth.”

That wiped the smile off everyone’s face, the camera went off. 

\--------------------------

Cas looked around himself, flames licked the air surrounding, barely illuminating anything in the large, dark room. It looked like some old warehouse or perhaps apartment complex, he couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. He heard footsteps, his air caught in his lungs,  “Lucifer.”

He was barely visible, staying far enough away from the flaming trap Cas was standing in that he couldn’t get a good look at him, Castiel had never actually met this particular brother. “So I take it you're here with the Winchesters.”

“I came alone.”

“Loyalty. Such a nice quality to see in this day and age.” Cas felt eyes walk up and down him, “Castiel, right?” Cas made a small nod motion, “Castiel. I'm told you came here in an automobile.”

“Yes.”

“What was that like?” He sounded genuinely intrigued. 

“Um,” Cas looked around himself, wondering what this had to do with anything, “Slow... Confining.”

Lucifer cocked his head at him, “What a peculiar thing you are.”

Cas got a better look at him, seeing large chunks of flesh burning off, cringing, “What's wrong with your vessel?”

Lucifer patted his own chest, sighing regretfully, “Yes. Um. Nick is wearing a bit thin, I'm afraid. He can't contain me forever, so—”

Cas felt all the anger in his being bubble and rise to a boiling point, “You—” He moved forward, ready to attack him right here for even imagining he could take Sam as a vessel. He imagined the pain it would cause Dean. “You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you.”

“Castiel. I don't understand why you're fighting  _ me _ , of all the angels.” The heat began to get to Cas.

“You really have to ask?”

Lucifer began to pace around the flames, “I rebelled, I was cast out. You rebelled, you were cast out. Almost all of heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interests? Which in this case just happen to be mine?”

“I'll die first.”

Lucifer sighed, “I suppose you will.”

_____________

Sam and Dean ran out across the dark field, pushing themselves harder and harder past the masses of demons until they reached a single man digging at a hole. Sam snarled, “You wanted to see me?”

“Oh, Sam, you don't need that gun here. You know I'd never hurt you. Not really.”

The death of Jo and Ellen hung heavy on Dean’s heart, he pulled the Colt up into firing position, aiming at the devil’s head. “Yeah? Well, I'd hurt you.”

“So suck it.” He pulled the trigger, feeling all the parts connect and shoot, ripping through Lucifer’s head. He collapsed. Sam and Dean waited for the demons to strike, to retaliate, but nobody moved. 

Lucifer inhaled sharply, shifting position on the ground, “Owww…”

He moves to stand, Sam’s jaw falls open in horror. 

“Where did you get that?” He lunged hard at Dean, sending him flying into a tree hard, knocking him out clean. “Now, where were we?”

He moved back to his mass of men, then picked up his shovel. “Don't feel too bad, Sam. There's only five things in all of creation that that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I'm almost done.”

Sam ran to Dean, checking his pulse, Lucifer dug at his hole, “You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now?”

Sam stood, hatred flowing through his veins. 

“End this whole tiresome discussion? That's crazy, right?”

Sam roared, “It's never gonna happen!”

Lucifer drew his attention back to his hole, “Oh, I don't know, Sam. I think it will. I think it'll happen soon. Within six months. And I think it'll happen in Detroit.”

Sam felt fear and anger churn inside him, “You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I'm gonna kill you myself, you understand me? I'm going to  _ rip  _ your heart out!”

Lucifer smiled sinisterly, “That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly. All that pent-up rage. I'm gonna need it.”

That scared him, he backed off, taking a deep breath, “What did you do? What did you do to this town?”

“Oh, I was very generous with this town. One demon for every able-bodied man.”

“And the rest of them?”

He paused, looking down at the mass grave he’d been shoveling dirt over. “In there. I know, it's awful, but these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first. I know what you must think of me, Sam. But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand.”

Sam flinched, “What's that supposed to mean?”

Lucifer dropped the shovel. 

“I was a son. A brother, like you, a younger brother, and I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael—Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar?”

He searched Sam’s eyes for acceptance, then shrugged away, “Anyway. You'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would.”

\-----------------

Dean woke slowly, wincing at a sudden throbbing sensation in the back of his head. He realized, slowly, that was what must have made contact with the body of the tree when Lucifer tossed him. He hissed, moving to sit up and feeling a pair of hands push him back down.

“Rest.”

“What’re you--” He opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. They were in what looked like an antiques store, he was lying on top of a plastic-covered couch while Sam lie in an old recliner. “What’s wrong with Sam?”

“Nothing, I simply put him in a state of rest, considering the… trauma of meeting Lucifer.” Castiel lifted Dean’s legs, sitting on the couch then setting his legs back down over his lap. “I thought you both might need some rest after everything that’s happened.” He met Dean’s eyes knowingly, seeing the pain burning inside him. 

They sat in silence for a moment like that, neither of them knowing what to say. What could be said? Innocent lives were lost and for what? They were no closer to stopping Lucifer than they were before, he still intended to take Sam as a vessel and end the world. 

Castiel placed a gentle hand over Dean’s, as a peace offering, “I am so sorry about Ellen and Jo.” Dean’s lip quivered as he struggled to hold tears back.

“Me too, Cas.” 

Castiel gazed at him, hating to see so much pain inside him. “If it’s any consolation, they are both in heaven. I made sure of that.” 

Dean met his blue eyes, tears budding up and threatening to spill out of his own. He pulled himself up to sit, still only inches away from Cas. He felt rage build up inside him, growling, “They shouldn’t be dead. We should be. If anybody deserves to have died there it was us.” His jaw twitched, “Not them.” 

Cas frowned, watching tears race down Dean’s cheeks as he bowed his head into his hands. All he could see behind his eyes was Ellen’s face filled with fear, but strange acceptance as she laid beside her dying daughter. And Jo. He felt more tears rip out of him as he remembered her, just the night before coyly hinting at wanting a kiss from Dean. He wished he could go back in time and give her that kiss. He’d give anything just to be able to hold her safe in his arms once more.

Cas’ voice was solemn, but sure, “You loved that girl, Jo, didn’t you?”

He was being bombarded with flashing images of her, hair bouncy and light, her wonderful energy and spunky attitude. He felt himself shake, “A part of me really did.” Her warm eyes, the way she would flirt like a little girl who didn’t know what she was getting herself into. 

Cas clasped a hand hard on Dean’s shoulder, lifting his face from his hands softly and offering himself up for a hug. Dean collapsed into him, letting the angel wrap his arms around him tight, rocking him side to side slowly and speaking softly into his hair, “Don’t blame yourself, Dean, there’s nothing you could have done.”

“Not if she’d never met me, she’d still be alive if she’d never known me.” He felt his tears drying out, feeling numb and empty. “Everyone who knows me gets hurt.”

Cas stroked his cheek, nothing but love in his eyes. It scared Dean. 

“Cas, we… we can’t do this.”

“What?” His expression fell, hand falling at his side.

“You’re just gonna get hurt, Cas, I can’t watch you die too.”

“Dean, that’s absurd.”

“Is it? Look around you, Cas.” His eyes raked over Cas’ features, “There’s not many people left.”

Sam stirred in his sleep, head moving from one side to the other. Castiel stared into Dean’s eyes, Dean saw nothing but devotion and want in them. Cas kept his voice low, “Dean, you can’t ask me to stop loving you now. It’s too late for that.” 

Dean felt himself squirm, cheeks red-hot, “Cas, w-what did you just say?”

“You heard me.” 

Sam grumbled, waking with a moan, stretching his hand up over his head, blinking at the two of them, who rapidly jumped about a foot apart, sitting at opposite ends of the couch. He yawned, “What’s up? Where are we?”

Castiel cleared his throat, “I hid us here for the time being.”

Sam sat up a little, “Oh, uh, good thinking, Cas.” 

“Thanks,” he was staring at Dean, looking distracted. Dean was… blushing?

“What were you guys talking about before I woke up?”

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, then stood up, deciding it wasn’t worth his time right now, he had way bigger issues to worry about. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go see where the hell we are.”

“Sounds good.” Dean said absently, eyes still locked with Cas’. 

Whatever. Sam rolled his eyes, walking out the door.


	8. The Run and Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during season 5 finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't take them on my own, my own  
> Oh, I'm not the one you know, you know  
> I have killed a man and all I know  
> Is I am on the run and go
> 
> [Chorus]  
> Don't wanna call you in the nighttime  
> Don't wanna give you all my pieces  
> Don't wanna hand you all my trouble  
> Don't wanna give you all my demons  
> You'll have to watch me struggle  
> From several rooms away  
> But tonight I'll need you to stay
> 
> [Chorus]  
> Don't wanna call you in the nighttime  
> Don't wanna give you all my pieces  
> Don't wanna hand you all my trouble  
> Don't wanna give you all my demons  
> You'll have to watch me struggle  
> From several rooms away  
> But tonight I'll need you to stay

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dean --”

“...no, don't "Dean" me. I mean, you -- you have had some stupid ideas in the past, But this --(to Bobby) d-did you know about this?”

Bobby looked up, “What?”

“About Sam's genius plan to cram the devil down his throat.”

Bobby nods, which makes Dean more furious, “Well, thanks for the heads up!”

“Hey, this ain't about me.”

Dean turned back to Sam, “You can't do this.”

Sam sighed, “That's the consensus.”

“All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion.” Dean's phone rings, he pulled it up out of his pocket, “This isn't over. Hello?”

Castiel’s voice was unmistakable on the other end of the line, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

Sam stepped closer, “Is he okay?”

“We all thought you were dead. Where the hell are you, man?”

“A hospital.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.” His response was flat. 

Dean sounded frustrated, “You want to elaborate?”

“I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead.”

“S-so, a hospital?”

“Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I'm told it upset the sailors.”

Dean tried to imagine that, “Uh, well, I got to tell you, man -- You're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box.”

“How?”

“It's a long story, but, look --we're going after Pestilence now. So if you want to zap over here…”

Cas’ voice coated with irritation, “I can't "zap" anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

Cas paused, “You could say my batteries are -- are drained.”

“What do you mean? You're out of angel mojo?”

“I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm saying that I'm just incredibly…”

“Human.” It sunk into him. Cas was really human. He didn’t think it was possible. “Wow. Sorry.”

Cas sounded like he was speaking through his teeth, “Well, my point is -- I can't go anywhere without money for...an airplane ride. And food. And more pain medication, ideally.”

“All right. Well, look, no worries. Uh, Bobby's here. He'll wire you the cash.”

“Dean, wait.”

Dean turned to Bobby, then paused, listening, “You said "no" to Michael. I owe you an apology.”

Dean didn’t care about who was right or wrong, “Cas...I-it's okay.”

“You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.”

Dean felt a smile tug at his features, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You're welcome.”

_______________

Dean drove the Impala up to the battlefield, ripping right into Lucifer and Michael’s showdown. Dean got up out of the car, 

“Hey. We need to talk.”

Lucifer turned to him with Sam’s face, snarling, “Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Sam.”

Adam spoke, “You're no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.”

Dean’s voice was regretful, “Adam, if you're in there somewhere, I am so sorry.”

“Adam isn't home right now.”

“Well, then you're next on my list, buttercup. But right now, I need five minutes with him.” 

Adam snarled, “You little maggot. You are no longer a part of this story!”

“Hey, ass-butt!” Cas and Bobby appeared, a couple yards away, Cas was holding a flaming bottle in his hand, a Molotov. Before anyone could react, he threw it, hitting Adam, they all watched as he screamed and went up in flames. 

Dean repeated him with disbelief, “"Ass-butt"?”

Castiel stood sure, “He'll be back – and upset – but you got your five minutes.” 

Lucifer turned to Cas, “Castiel. Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?”

Cas stammered, “Uh... no.”

“No one dicks with Michael but me.” With a snap of Sam’s fingers, Castiel exploded in a gush of blood and chunks.

It happened too fast for Dean to even process it, he ran toward Sam, “Sammy, can you hear me?”

“You know... I tried to be nice... for Sammy's sake. But you... are such a pain... in my ass.”

Sam lifted his hand, throwing Dean backwards into the windshield of the Impala, which shatters. Bobby shoots him in the back, making Sam turn, Bobby shot again. Sam quickly made a twisting motion with his hand and Bobby’s neck snapped.

“N-o-o-o-o!” Dean felt his heart fall to his stomach.

“Yes.”

Sam grabbed Dean by the legs, yanking him off the hood of the car and beginning to whale on his face. He landed blow after blow, Dean took it all, spitting blood between punches, 

“Sammy? Are you in there?” 

He huffed, “Oh, he's in here, all right.” he landed another punch, “And he's gonna feel the snap of your bones.” he hit him harder, making him fall to the ground, “Every single one.” he pulled him to his feet by his jacket he was clutching in a fist, “We're gonna take our time.”

He continued beating him, hitting him at least another ten times. Dean’s face was now swollen and bloodied beyond recognition. He reached up to his little brother.

“Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you.” he punched him twice more in the face, “I'm not gonna leave you.” he felt his vision begin to fade out, the scent and taste of metal filling him. Sam landed another hard punch. 

Suddenly he stopped, he was just staring down at Dean, who was on the brink of death. His fists un-clenched, letting Dean’s body slip to the ground, sliding down the hood of the Impala. Sam’s voice was ragged, suddenly different, 

“It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him.”

He took the Horseman’s rings out of his pocket, tossing them on the ground and saying, “ _ Bvtmon tabges babalon.” _ The ground caves in around the rings and air is sucked into the hole. Sam and Dean look at each other as the hole widens. Sam breathes deeply. 

Adam reappeared, “Sam! It's not gonna end this way! Step back!”

“You're gonna have to make me!”

“I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and now! It's my destiny!”

Sam looks at Dean, closes his eyes and spreads his arms. Michael lunges forward and grabs Sam’s jacket. Sam grabs Michael’s arm and they fall together into the hole. After few moments the hole closes in a blinding flash of light. The Horsemen's rings burn bright in the grass on the ground where the hole was. Dean closes his eyes as he leans back against the Impala. 

It was all finally over. Sam was really gone.

The fluttering of wings touched his ears, a shadow hovered over him, “Cas, you're alive?”

“I'm better than that.”

He reached down to touch Dean’s face, healing all his wounds, restoring his face to its former glory. Dean blinked up at him through the sunlight, “Cas, are you God?”

Castiel smiled softly, “That's a nice compliment. But no. Although, I do believe he brought me back. New and improved.”

Cas walks to Bobby and touches him on the forehead, resurrecting him. Dean felt a feeling of amazement and wonder fill him, looking at Cas with adoration. He looked down at the Horsemen's rings, which he holds in his hand. 

Hours later, they sat side by side in the Impala, stealing glances at each other. Dean finally spoke, “What are you gonna do now? 

Sea blue eyes met impossibly mossy, forest green. Despite having all his grace returned to full capacity, something inside him still felt weak and tethered to Dean. Sure, he could return to Heaven, they probably needed him but something inside him wanted to stay right where he was, on the road with Dean.

He remembered Dean’s question, sighing hopelessly, “I suppose I don’t know.”

Dean gripped the wheel hard, his jaw tensing, “You don’t have to leave, do you?”

Cas felt a smile touch his lips, “No, I don’t  _ have  _ to do anything. I am under no one’s command but my own.” 

“Look at you,” Dean chuckled, eyeing the angel from the corners of his eyes, “You sure have changed a lot since we met.”

A comfortable silence sat between them. Dean remembered something, “Uh, Cas, I wanted to ask you about something.” 

Cas studied Dean’s face, grinning, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Yes?”

“What… what you said, a while back.” He stumbled, clearing his throat, “I thought I heard you say that…”

Cas saved him the awkwardness, scooting across the upholstery to press a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek, “Yes Dean, I still love you.” He felt the hunter get hot and begin to hyperventilate. He breathed down his neck, tickling him with his warm breath, “You should pull over, Dean.” 

“Y-yeah, why?”

Cas continued inching closer, worming into his space, kissing down his neck softly, long fingers reaching at the buttons on Dean’s flannel. He snapped the first one open, reaching in to feel Dean’s warm skin, grazing his nipple. Dean let out an uneasy breath. The angel nipped at his collar bone, “Let me show you how much I love you, Dean.”

Dean didn’t know Cas’ voice could get that low. It turned him on more than he thought possible, he tried to mask his own shock as he felt himself get hard, pressed up against his zipper. He pulled off to the side of the road, pulling the angel closer, breathing shaky and needy, “Ca-as,”

They crashed into each other like two planets colliding, fusing together in explosive sparks. Dean kept the grief of Sam far from his mind, hands roaming up and down Cas’ body desperately, tugging on his hair and biting his lip, yanking him closer and closer. A thought passed through him and he pulled away softly, leaving Cas’ eyes scanning him in horror, 

“What did I do wrong, Dean?”

“Nothing, I... “ It sounded stupid now that it was coming out of him, “I’ve just.. Never been with a-a-”

“You’re nervous about being with a man.”

“Y-yes.” Cas caressed his face, smiling, 

“I’m not a man, Dean.”

“I know, but, you’ve still got the, er, equipment.”

“My penis? That’s what you’re worried about, my penis?”

Dean burned, trying to inch away from Cas, but there was no escaping him. Cas grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together. 

“Dean, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” 

Dean shook his head, “No, I.. It’s not you, Cas, I’m just… scared is all.”

Cas leaned close, locking eyes with him, making sure he had permission before catching Dean’s lip between his. He felt the hunter slowly melt beneath him, their bodies spreading out over the cushions, Cas hovering, pressing his hips down into Dean’s instinctively. 

Dean reached up, hands finding his taut ass, squeezing his muscular cheeks through his slacks, rutting upward against him. He closed his eyes, trying not to picture a man above him, but Cas, just Cas in his true form, all powerful and glowing. He felt his body begin to tingle. 

Cas’ grace was pouring out around them, making the inside of the car light up with glowing blue light, Dean could sense it through his closed eyes. He opened them, seeing wispy blue smoke-looking stuff surrounding them, curling around his arms and legs, moving through each hair follicle on his head, crawling down his spine, making him shiver up into Cas.

He breathed hot and heavy against his neck, hard and ready to try this out, no one was around to tell him not to. Not his marine father, who would be horrified at the thought of his eldest son being with a man. Not Sam, who would act disgusted and weirded out. Nobody could tell him what he was feeling was wrong. 

“Cas,” He reached at the buttons on the angel’s dress shirt, pushing his tie out of the way, working at the buttons, “I want you, Cas, want you so bad.”

Dean watched as the light surrounding them got brighter, he squinted, the grace dimmed, Cas apologizing softly, “Sorry,” He let Dean push his shirt off his shoulders, watching as his forest colored eyes drank in the image of his bare chest. He felt hot under the hunter’s careful scrutiny, “Right here, right now?”

“Why not?” Dean shrugged out of his own shirt, Cas couldn’t hide the absolute bewilderment that washed over him at the beautiful sight of Dean’s skin. He reached out to touch, Dean chuckled, “I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?”

Castiel’s fingers drifted softly down Dean’s chest, touching his belly button and twirling a finger around his barely-there blonde happy trail. Dean shuddered, biting his lip and sitting up. Dean felt arms wrap around him, but Cas sat inches away, not touching him. He looked around himself to see it was Cas’ grace that was hugging around him, Cas parted his lips softly, 

“I have your permission?”

“What’re you gonna do?”

The angel smiled, eyes smoldering, “Pleasure you.” As he said that, Dean felt something warm in his pants, wrapping around his cock. His lips fell open weakly, a groan escaping him as he leaned into the touch, pushing his hips forward. Cas looked pleased, watching his favorite human fall apart under his grace’s touch, enjoying his ragged breathing and flushed cheeks. Cas leaned forward to suck on his neck, warmth and wetness surrounded Dean’s cock and it made him shudder. 

He felt the warmth spread further backward, surrounding his balls and making his ass tingle. He gasped, never having felt something like that, Cas wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close to his chest, whispering, “Relax, Dean,”

He kissed at the tender spot beneath Dean’s ear, running a hand through his hair as he willed his grace to enter Dean slowly. He felt the hunter shake against him, clenching and grabbing at him, “Cas,”

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” worry coated his features, his grace remaining still.

“This is… so... weird.” 

“But do you like it?”

“I…” he wasn’t sure. He felt the warmth enter him again, tingling and wet, circling him slowly, filling him up gently. He let himself lie back, barely feeling the cushions beneath him as he floated, body swept away in this new strange, wonderful feeling. His legs fell apart, so did his lips as the pleasure built, swirling around inside him like a hurricane. He didn’t know if it was because Cas was doing it or not, but he felt absolutely no pain, which he knew was fishy, especially because he’d never had ANYthing touch his ass.

“Cas, that feels…” He clutched desperately at the air, reaching for him, “So good.”

He felt the warmth expand inside him, stretching him, he mewled, curling against the cushions, begging for more. Cas felt himself growing harder and harder, watching Dean accept his pleasure like this was almost too much for him. He continued stretching him with his grace, preparing him, keeping him nice and wet as he unbuckled his belt and shimmied his dress pants down. He snapped his fingers and Dean was naked, legs spread, sprawled, panting, begging. 

“Are you ready, Dean?”

The human was exasperated, “Yes!” his legs felt like jello as whatever was inside him began stroking harder and harder, making him fall apart, spread and ready for Cas. He opened his eyes, looking down at himself, seeing his cock resting heavy against his stomach. Cas’ eyes fell on it, hunger in his features.

Dean let his eyes drift downward, finally seeing Cas, his body was lean and sexy. His muscles moved under his skin with precision as he inched closer, below his belly button a dark trail of hair led down to his hard cock. Dean reached out, unable to resist, wrapping his fingers around Cas and moaning at the girth he felt there.

“Jeez, Cas, you lucked out with this vessel, huh?”

“Does that mean you’re pleased with the size of my penis?”

Dean laughed a full bellied laugh, gripping him and stroking rhythmically, pulling him down toward his own cock, lining them up in his hand and stroking. They were comparable, Cas’ being slightly longer while Dean’s was thicker, both circumcised. Their heads touched, each shivering with pleasure as it happened. 

“Dean,”

“Cas,” he grabbed his dimpled chin, yanking him into a kiss. He pulled the angel’s body closer, fingers still wrapped tight around his cock. He began lining him up with his ass, wishing Cas was more wet. The angel read his thought, suddenly his cock was slick with wetness.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Dean?”

“Do I look like I’m not ready?” He wrapped his legs around Cas’ hips, pulling him closer, gasping as he felt the blunt head of his cock press against him. “Promise you won’t hurt me.”

“You’ll feel no pain, Dean.” Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him up into his lap and sitting him on his cock, tugging him down slowly as he slid into him, both gasping breathlessly. Cas made sure to keep Dean’s pain at bay, knowing this was typically quite painful for humans.

Dean’s breath hit Cas’ shoulder hot and heavy, “Ca-astiel, o-oh my god.” 

“Don’t pray to him,” Cas pulled back, inching almost all the way out, “pray to me.” he thrust in hard. Dean couldn’t take it anymore, the burning pleasure, Cas’ big cock, his low, gravelly voice. He felt like a teenager again and he couldn’t hold back the orgasm that ripped through him. 

As he came on their stomachs, Castiel’s thrusting became more ragged. He dug his fingernails into Dean’s back, hugging him as close as he could as he moved his hips faster and faster, seeing white spots behind his eyes as the pleasure built. 

“De-eean, you feel so good,” He felt the angel’s cock hitting him hard, thrusting up into a bundle of nerves he hadn’t known existed, pleasure rocketing through his veins, stealing his air. He felt how hard Cas was, rocking into him desperate and fast. “Dean, Dean, I’m gonna-- o-ohh..”

Dean buried his face into Cas’ neck when he felt more warmth and wetness enter him, leaving him shuddering and shaking. He stayed sat on Cas’ lap for a moment like that as they both regained their breath, arms wrapped tight around each other, afraid to let go. As Castiel’s grace dissipated, Dean began to feel a burning pain. 

“Ahh,” He groaned, moving off Cas’ cock slowly, wincing as he felt the cum fall out of him. “Oh, god, sorry,” before he could look down to see what he was sure was a bloody mess on Cas’ thigh, Cas had snapped his fingers, already erasing it from reality. 

Dean sat with caution, feeling his ass ache. Dean saw the pain in his features, “I hurt you.” He reached forward to touch his forehead, trying to erase the pain. 

Dean felt relief wash over him, easing his sore ass. “S’okay, Cas, I’m good.”

“You know I didn’t mean to hurt y--”

“Cas, my ass was a virgin, I knew it was gonna hurt. Especially with  _ that  _ thing.” he referred to Castiel’s slowly softening cock. 

Cas smiled bashfully, “You enjoyed it?”

“I came, didn’t I?” it felt so weird, sitting naked with Cas, but part of it felt like muscle memory, like it was always supposed to end this way. Dean felt himself burn, still in disbelief that it had actually happened. “Next time though, let’s do it the human way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… no grace.. I want  _ you  _ to touch me, prep me..” he looked away, blushing.

“Oh,” Realization fell on the angel’s features. “Deal.”

“Don’t feel bad though, that was better than any sex I’ve ever had.” 

“I love you, Dean.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say it, but felt himself choke, instead reaching forward to capture him in a kiss. 


End file.
